


under my skin

by pollycrevette



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Zayn Malik, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Football Player Liam Payne, Football | Soccer Captain Louis Tomlinson, Frat Boy Harry Styles, Frat Boy Niall Horan, Lilo friendship, Louis Tomlinson Has a Crush on Harry Styles, M/M, Sassy Harry Styles, Sassy Louis Tomlinson, actually its more like strangers to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to lovers, eleanor and harry are step-siblings, eleanor is a bitch but shes kinda nice too, harry styles has some identity problems, harry styles is a bitch, in conclusion: harry is adorable, narry friendship, stepfamily, zouis friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28532850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollycrevette/pseuds/pollycrevette
Summary: "…He's your brother?"Eleanor sighs for a long time, as if the boy's subject annoys her more than anything. She rolls her eyes once again, as she returns her attention to Louis."Step-brother. Unfortunately. He is a real idiot."Fuck.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Louis sees him for the first time a few hours after midnight, as the party is in full swing.

He feels himself falling, not knowing if it is just a sensation or if his legs really let go. Even so, he continues to dance slowly, his arms wrapped tightly around Eleanor's hips. Her long chocolate hair tickles his collarbone as she has her head buried in his neck, and Louis wants to shake his shoulder to get her moving. All around them, the students are sweaty, shouting the vulgar lyrics of a song playing in the background; no one bothers them, no one would ever dare. It reminds him of a fairytale scene, but Louis does not find it romantic.

His heart beats fast, music echoes in his bones and vibrates his rib cage, his head sway gently. A drunk couple pushes them aside, before excusing themselves; Louis tightens his grip on the young girl's hips, more by reflex than by fear of having her removed.

This catches the attention of Eleanor, who raises her head and looks at Louis absent-mindedly.

Eleanor is pretty under the neon light. She always is, with her long chocolate hair and almond eyes, but in the instant the flashy lights fall on her skin like a halo, highlighting her rosy cheekbones and full lips. She is beautiful, so beautiful, and all the boys want her and her cute curves. She is to Louis, however, and everyone knows that.

Eleanor is one of the cheerleaders of the football team, one of the prettiest in the bunch, pretty and smiling. She and Louis officially met on the field years ago when they were still only in high school. Like a goddess, she had fallen into his arms at the end of a match, as they celebrated their victory. It was the start of their long history.

Eleanor still looks like a goddess here in front of him, her hands buried in his messy hair, a drunken smile on her lips. However, it has been a while since Louis realized that he does not like goddesses.

Another person pushes them aside, and Louis stumbles forward, smacking his forehead lightly against Eleanor's. Instead of apologizing, Louis laughs stupidly, and the young girl does the same. The room spins around him a bit, so he pulls Eleanor towards him, clinging to her like a ship at anchor. Louis feels so good, his body is so relaxed, and his thoughts are so calm. The girl smiles softly before leaning towards him.

Her eyes are bright, her pupils dilated from the alcohol, and her lips are parted, ready to rest against Louis's. Louis lets her do it, because that is what a couple does: they kiss.

This is nonsense. This whole thing is nonsense. Louis does not stop her, however.

From a strictly technical point of view, the kiss is good: warm and soft, although a little messy from the alcohol. The problem is that the young man does not feel anything, and that he always will be. Never any real spark, never any interest. He just feels like he is kissing a statue. He still has that lump in his stomach that makes him want to throw up.

This hell that Louis undergoes ends when Eleanor is torn from him. Louis is still under the influence of alcohol, and his mind is still blurry from the kiss, but he sees a boy in the crowd, an unknown boy. He is too drunk, otherwise he would have yelled at him.

Then Louis's vision stabilizes, his head stops spinning, and his gaze locks into the other boy's.

Louis is spellbound.

He gets lost in his beautiful emerald green eyes so deep and bewitching, framed by beautiful chocolate bun curls held by a bandana. The boy's lips look so red in the neon light, so _sweet_ , and his cheeks look so soft. He does not even give Louis a smile, just stares at him before returning his attention to Eleanor. Louis had almost forgotten the young girl.

Even though he is two steps away from them, Louis cannot hear what they are saying to each other, so he watches the boy in silence, lost. He watches his pale, angular hand resting on Eleanor's shoulder, and his slender but toned arms. His gaze falls on his sparsely covered, pure white collarbones, and Louis swallows, because damn he is _so_ attractive.

Then he disappears. Louis blinks, and the next second he watches the boy pull Eleanor out.

Louis tries a step towards them, but his head is spinning, and his legs are unstable, so he just stares at them, the feeling of a hole in his stomach.

\------------------------------------

The next day, Louis no longer remembers the boy.

All he remembers are all the glasses of vodka-coke he has drunk and that make his head heavy and dizzy. His body is aching, lying on the mattress, and his clothes from the night before, still on him, stink of sweat and cigarettes, mixed with Eleanor's scent. Downstairs, he hears Liam chatting merrily, probably on the phone, or with a bang he found the day before. How can that idiot be in such good shape? He is sure he saw him go into a girl's arms at some point in the evening. Or was it Stan? He no longer knows. He does not want to know.

Louis does not want to get up.

He wants to stay in bed all his life, to bathe in peace, and never to drink again. College is finally over, Louis has successfully completed his third year, he deserves to sleep for the rest of his life, enjoy his days calmly, and stop worrying about his place on the team, or his said girlfriend.

But apparently the world decided otherwise, as Liam storms into his room, slamming the door, making Louis moan. The boy feels like his head is stuck in a tin can, and Liam is banging on it with all his might. What did he do to deserve this? All Louis wants is to go back to sleep, why is Liam making him suffer so much?

"Lou-is," Liam said in his drawl, a mock false sweetness.

Louis does not get caught in the trap, he's too tired for that.

"What have I done again..."

His sigh is muffled as he buries his head in his pillow. He knows Liam is rolling his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He does not care. At least, thanks to Louis, he does not have to play the loving, sweet best friend anymore.

“Eleanor called. She wanted to know if you were going to Oli's party tomorrow night."

Louis sighs more into the pillow and pulls the quilt over his head. Eleanor, Eleanor, always Eleanor. She was much more drunk than him the night before, Louis does not understand how she manages to prepare the next party so early.

"If this whole thing is getting on your nerves so much, why don't you stop everything? "

Of course, Liam would take this opportunity to bring the matter back to the table. Louis should never have told him about it.

The thing was, it seemed cool having a friend that he could be real, _honest_ with, at first. Now all that mattered to Liam was the well-being of his best friend, and Louis could live without it. He was doing very well.

“It’s not that simple, Leeyum."

As he spoke, Louis had sat up on his elbows; far too quickly though, because his head spins and he thinks he is about to vomit. Liam hands him a strip of aspirin and a glass of water, as if they were not about to have a fight. Louis thanks him with a nod and takes a moment to swallow his pill. It is gross and he grimaces at the taste.

"And that doesn't piss me off, it just tires me out."

Liam rolls his eyes, and that only annoys Louis.

"Look, I don't think you're in a position to tell me what to do. You might not be in the same situation as I am, but you would do the same to keep your status. So keep your advice to yourself, Payno, I have my relationship in hand, and I'll dump Eleanor when I feel like it.

\- False relationship Louis, you have your false relationship in hand. And you already want to ditch Eleanor, you don't like her. But okay, I stop telling you what to do. Just be careful.

\- I'm _always_ careful, Payno. "

The silence in the room is heavy, and the two students look into each other's eyes, coldly. It is not the first time that they are arguing, it’s something common between them: they are so different, their ways of handling things are not at all the same. Arguments about his fake relationship with Eleanor are always the worst, however, as Louis does not like to talk about it.

He will never admit it to Liam, but Louis feels like he is trapped in this situation, sometimes. Pretending to date Eleanor to get people's attention and make a name for himself sounded so good back then, but Louis does not know how to get out of that situation. It had all been going on for 3 years now, of course Louis would end up feeling that way.

With a sigh, Louis lies down in his bed, face down on the pillow; he definitely does not like to think about it.

A few minutes pass, in a less heavy but still uncomfortable silence. Louis still feels Liam's presence behind his back. He turns around, his brow furrowed, and looks down at him from his bed.

"What are you waiting for to leave? You're not going to camp here, right?"

His best friend raises his hands in the air in redemption, then leaves the room in silence. He does not seem offended; Louis still regrets his words.

Liam knows that this is not a topic to talk about with Louis, that he is not as pleased with the events as he suggests, but that was no reason to talk to him like that.

Louis sighs for a long time; he will have to go apologize later.

The summer holidays have started well.

\------------------------------------

Louis remembers the boy later in the day when it was already dark.

He had finally decided to answer Eleanor, had called her as he was making tea. The girl had told him about Oli's party, how important it would be, that they should go together, Louis had agreed to accompany her.

The situation changed when she apologized for the night before. Louis _did_ _not_ remember the day before.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, confused, after a moment of thinking.

He cannot remember a single thing Eleanor could have done that deserved an apology. Has she cheated on him again? Of course, if it does, it is nice to apologize, but it is not the first time: Louis is used to it now. And it is not like they are really dating; he is not emotionally attached to her and she is probably not neither.

Across the room, Liam looks up, frowning as Louis shrugs at his silent question.

"Don't you remember?

\- …Absolutely not."

Eleanor sighs on the line, but it is not about Louis' inability to pay attention to things, she's used to it now.

"I had to leave the party a bit quickly yesterday, I had some kind of family problem" the young girl finally answers.

She ended her sentence sharply, barring any questions. This is the first time in years that Eleanor has not displayed her life so _interesting_ and _dramatic_.

Louis tries to remember the scene, to remember what happened. Eleanor may well have lied, taken advantage of Louis' ignorance not to tell him the truth; Louis is suspicious.

Then finally, Louis remembers it, vividly and clearly, and his world falls apart.

It falls apart, because not even a second ago, Louis had totally forgotten about the boy from the day before, and now, now ... now, Louis does not know what to do.

He sees those green eyes, those red lips, that white skin; he sees this handsome boy again, and it sends a wave of electricity through his body; he feels like he is drowning as that gaze lingers in his memory. The images spin and play in his mind over and over again, and Louis thinks he is going crazy.

“Loulou? You still there?" Eleanor said suddenly, skeptical.

She does not speak loudly, but Louis hears her like a scream. He finally returns to Earth, regains consciousness of the world around him. Liam looks up at Louis' strong inspiration; he had not even noticed he was holding his breath.

"Oh uh yeah sorry I just remembered something, I have to leave you. Talk to you later."

Without waiting for answers, Louis hangs up. His heart is still beating, and his hands are shaking a little: he grabs his cup and squeezes it tightly between his hands, trying to stop the fits. He feels like thousands of butterflies are flying in his stomach, and strangely, he likes the feeling.

" Everything is fine?"

The young man looks up and meets the worried gaze of his best friend. It's true that he has to act weird, from the outside, when you don't know what's going on in his head. Honestly, even Louis does not know what is going on in his head.

“Louis…?"

Liam's voice brings him back to him for the third time. Louis tries a Tommo smile, but Liam cannot believe it. Shit.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I'm just tired. "

His best friend's gaze weighs heavily on him, and Louis swallows.

"I— I just remembered something, I'll tell you about it later."

With that, Louis leaves the kitchen. His legs feel heavy as he walks up the stairs. He is so confused about what's going on, Louis never felt like this. The day before, he put that on alcohol, but he has only got tea and water in his body, so it's not it.

When he finally reaches his room, Louis does not bother turning on the light. He walks over to his bed, and though sits in silence, still confused. He squeezes his strong teacup in his hands, he _clings_ _to_ _it_ so as not to sink again.

Louis finally understands what happened; he realizes that it only took a memory, a glimmer, to lose his means.

Shit.

If he even has a chance to see the boy again, he has to break up with Eleanor first.

\------------------------------------

It is always hard to break up with Eleanor. This time is no exception.

Not because he loves her, or for any sentimental reason: Louis has no feelings for the girl, and that will never change. If it is hard, it is because after 4 years of dating, Eleanor has learned how Louis work, and can change his mind at any time.

Louis is popular, Louis is loved, Louis is envied (luckily, he is, that is why he dates Eleanor even if he is gay). Even though he ended up laughing at his reputation, it is still a pleasant feeling, and the young girl knows what to say to lure Louis into her net once again.

But Liam stares at him across the room, wait for him to do it, then Louis knows he has to. he was saving that he should never have told Liam his plans, but it is too late now. Even though the music around them is too loud, even though alcohol is already running through his veins, Louis is determined to stop this charade. So, he grabs Eleanor by the waist, as she dances with her back to him on the dance floor, and whispers softly in her ear:

_"We need to talk."_

The young girl turns her head towards him with a frown, but accepts anyway, after having retrieved her glass from her friend. Louis guides her to an empty corner, his hand gently resting on her back. With a glance, he scares the students away from the kitchen, and draws Eleanor to the bar.

"It's over between us" declares the young man in the surrounding calm.

Eleanor does not say anything, just looks at him in the eye, sipping her cocktail. She examines him silently, and Louis rolls his eyes with an amused smile. She tries to read him, but Louis knows how to build a mask. It is pretty simple when you date a young girl for a few years while you are a gay man.

"Can I know why?" she finally asked, pushing her hair back behind her ear.

Eleanor is nervous, Louis knows it, he sees it. The way she chews her straw, the way she plays with the hem of her skirt, betrays her. This is to his advantage, and he will take advantage of it. If he wants to make sure she gets the message, he has to unsettle her. _Like that time, when he told her everything._

"No you can’t. It's not your business."

This makes the young girl laugh: she laughs with a clear, melodious laugh, throwing her head back. She is definitely very nervous. Louis is a pretty straightforward person, if he has a problem with anyone, he will tell him clearly. His not saying anything is unsettling for Eleanor. Again, _like this time._

The young girl glances at Louis, and she sees that she is vulnerable. Louis' smirk says it all, too. She looks away and walks away for a moment to fill her glass. Louis does not move, remains leaning against the bar: he observes her from a distance, keeps his gaze fixed on her. From the outside, he looks like a college student wanting his girlfriend, but his gaze is hard, cold, _heavy_.

When Eleanor returns, she has regained her confidence. She walks in this way that slowly moves her hips, and her hair ripples down her back like gentle waves.

"That's it. Okay, you're dumping me. I understand, I guess. I accept. You're gonna come back to me in two days anyway. I know you. "

Louis hates it when she is like that, full of confidence, full of herself. It is his fault, though, it’s him who made her that way, it’s him who gave her this popularity that is soaring to its head. Their breakups never lasted long, they always ended up turning back to each other; it is an ethical question: people love couples who keep breaking up but always get together at the end. _Together despite the storms, in love forever_ or something.

If Louis wants to win this fight, he has to get the hang of it, make her understand that she does not know anything, that she is out of _control_.

“I'm not kidding Eleanor" he said with a smirk, "this is the end, really. "

The young girl stares him, but Louis is used to it. 5 years of breaking up with her, he knows what to expect. He knows all the states of the great and popular Eleanor Calder.

"It was Liam who put these ideas in your head, right? He was never okay with that; you never should have told him."

Obviously, she would use this card; of course, she would put the blame on someone else. Obviously, she will try to manipulate Louis into believing he was being manipulated.

Louis sighs for a long time, because of Eleanor that is what he hates the most. Liam is a good friend, a great friend, and Louis knew he only wants his best; Eleanor should not give him a manipulative role.

"It has nothing to do with Liam, and you know that very well."

The tension in the room is heavy. A blond boy stumbles into the kitchen, and the two students turn their heads towards him, simultaneously. He sits up, meets their eyes, and spins around, apologizing _literally_ a thousand times. Louis sneers. Eleanor turns her attention back to him.

"If you say so, Louis. We'll see that in two weeks, when you beg me on your knees to take you back."

Eleanor looks him from head to toe one last time, then finally leaves to join her friends. Louis has a beer before leaving the kitchen in his turn. The cheerleading team watch him from the couch; Louis gives them a smile before joining his teammates. Hopefully, the news has yet to get to them where Louis will be in trouble.

As the young man makes his way through the bodies, looking for Liam, a voice calls out to him. Louis immediately identifies him, and a smile appears on his lips. _Zayn_. Louis does not have to think twice to guess where the voice is coming from: immediately he looks up, locking his gaze on the other boy's, perched over the mezzanine railing. _As usual_.

"What are you waiting for join me, _Tommo The Tease_! "

Louis bursts out laughing at the nickname, which means more to Zayn's mouth than anyone else's. He throws his fist in the air to let his friend know he is coming, then turns around and goes upstairs.

Zayn is still standing in one place, leaning against the railing, his hands hanging limply over the void. His arms shine with a strange substance, and Louis guesses that the boy is returning from a street art session with fluorescent paints.

“Zayn! I didn't think I would see you here!" he shouts cheerfully, happy to see his friend again.

The dark-haired young man smirked back, that glint in his eyes that Louis could never name. He watches him closely as Louis comes to his side. He could not help his eyes from watching the crowd at their feet, still hoping to see the boy again. All he sees are Kendall's glances downstairs. He smiles falsely at her and she does the same, giving him a finger in the process before joining the other cheerleaders.

"I know I'm not a party animal, but I wasn't going to miss the first few evenings of the vacation. They are always the best." Zayn replied, after a moment. From his questioning gaze, he saw the interaction.

Louis laughs softly, sincerely, because he can. Zayn always had that effect on him, to make him calmer, more _real_. At first, however, Zayn Malik was tapping him on the system, with his dark clothes and superior air. It took a while for Louis to realize that Zayn was indeed superior.

“So, _Tommo The Tease_ ,” Zayn says, his voice sweet with mockery, a rare thing, “how's business going?"

 _Tommo The Tease_ is Louis' nickname, as a player on the football team: Tomlinson was too long to be his jersey, so the university just wrote TOMMO in big letters, proudly enthroned above the student's lucky 28. _The Tease_ appeared later, in his sophomore year, when he and Eleanor kept breaking up before they got back together.

But in Zayn's mouth, this nickname has another meaning. This is how Zayn names the second Louis, the popular and rebellious boy. Zayn has always said that there are _two Louis_ : one true and sincere, and the other false and popular. That is why Louis hated him so much at first: because he already understood everything. Over time, luckily, this grudge dissipated, and now Zayn and Louis are close as brothers.

Louis is popular, he knows it, and it is on this popularity that all his privileges are based. He is more than aware of it, and he takes advantage of it. His title as captain of the soccer team gives him a name and a big place in this university, his rebellious attitude adds something to the picture, and Louis would not change that for the world. So, when he is with his team, surrounded by glory and admiration, he becomes _Tommo The Tease_. He does what people expect him to do: he puts a flirtatious smile on his lips, makes crass jokes, rejects authority, and struts alongside Eleanor. He will not be able to do that now, and it is for the best, honestly. He knows it was stupid, he does not even like girls, but he kept going, because it is _so_ satisfying. He still continues. It gives him a place on the social ladder, a place that he never really had before.

This reputation is hard to keep, however, and sometimes Louis needs to be just Louis, and not the famous Tommo. These are the times when Zayn is essential, because of course he knows.

He knows that in high school, Eleanor and Louis were dating _for real_ ; he knows that after two months the couple broke up after Eleanor cheated; he knows that Louis later refused the girl's advances and confessed to being gay; and he also knows, of course, that the duo got back together, _for fake_ , because they were 'perfect together', that they made the 'best couple', and the popularity appeal was too strong.

Zayn is the only one who understands, who is _helpful_ , when Louis has an identity crisis, because even though Liam is his best friend, Liam is lying.

Zayn's dark gaze still observes Louis, not urging him to answer. It would be hypocritical on his part; Zayn is not a big talker.

“Well, nothing new." Zayn raises an eyebrow, unconvinced, and Louis suppresses a laugh. "Oh yes, I broke up with Eleanor. Officially."

Zayn's eyes widen, and Louis chuckles. He hesitates to tell him about the boy, he does not know if it's a good idea, but Zayn looks at him intently, and seems to study him from head to toe. He decides to keep it to himself; he has already said enough.

"You broke up Eleanor? Officially?" the other boy repeats slowly.

Louis nods, realizing how crazy that could sound to those who know the truth.

“She probably didn't take you seriously." Zayn replies before clicking his tongue against his palate.

A second time, Louis nods, with a laugh this time.

“That's right, she didn't. She's sure I'll beg her to date me again in two weeks. Sometimes I wonder if she remembers I'm gay."

The two students laugh softly, exchanging knowing looks. Louis takes a sip of his beer, looking back into the crowd below them. He finds Eleanor in the crowd, she is already dancing with a new boy, waves her hips against his; the breakup should not have been that hard.

“But I'm really done with her. Liam and his good principles will have taken pity on me.

\- Poor Liam, really. Having to put up with you every day, it must be hard."

Louis, outraged, tries to nudge him in the sides, but Zayn deftly avoids him with a brief snicker. He's right, however. The soft look in his eyes when he talks about Liam does not fool him though, and Louis smiles.

The young man never asks Zayn any questions as he only receives vague inconsistent answers, so they just sit there without saying anything. A few minutes pass, during which Louis gazes around the crowd, looking for a curly head, then Zayn's phone rings, pulling him out of his thoughts. The young man glances at it before turning to Louis.

"We're leaving each other here, duty is calling. Have fun, _Tommo The Tease._ I hope you find this person you have been looking for a while and who has made you question your life."

Louis would have been surprised if he did not know his friend's observational skills so well.

"Fuck you Malik" he responds with a smirk, before adding, "try not to get arrested by the police, this time it will ruin your vacation."

With a last laugh, and a bow, Zayn disappears into the crowd, like a shadow. Louis spends a few more seconds watching the crowd but then leaves again, having found nothing that would make his heartbeat and his cheeks flush.

He finds Liam with the rest of the football team, all around a Beer Pong table. The news has had time to get around, and they are all watching him come in with big, fake smiles.

“ _Tommo_! Here you are!" Stan yells, drawing attention to himself more. "We've been looking everywhere for you guys, wanna play a party?"

Louis sees Stan's game clearly: to make him drink, to make him sympathize, so that he tells them what happened with Eleanor without having to ask. The young man has nothing against, he is not afraid of what he might say, he has accepted himself for a long time already.

“Why not, yeah."

This is how the first part of the evening goes: Louis plays. He teams up with Liam, Oli, and another guy on their team, and they lead the game. Across the table, Stan looks disappointed, but Louis does not know if it is because he's losing or because Louis do not drink.

“Liam. Louis." Suddenly said a female voice, standing out from all the others by its clarity.

Louis knows who is waiting behind him; even if he did not, the whistles of his teammates would have let him know. He exchanges a brief glance with Liam before turning around.

As Louis had guessed, Eleanor stands behind them, hand on hip, pursed lips. Next to her, much gentler, is Maya Henry, another of the team's cheerleaders. She seems amused by the situation, seeing her slight smile.

“Eleanor, Maya." he replies mockingly.

Eleanor does not like it; she sniffs, rolls her eyes, and passes him, heading towards the boys behind them. Maya still has that amused smile on her lips.

"Sorry for that Louis, she wanted to accompany me with what happened last time.

\- Don't apologize, everything is fine. She did well."

The last time Maya spoke was when, at a party, Gigi Hadid, another of the cheerleaders, had left her friends to get a drink, and a group of boys had tried to take her _upstairs_. Since then, cheerleaders never hung out alone in the evening.

"I came to ask Liam if he could take me home? I was supposed to go home with Kendall, but she wants to stay longer, and you're the only ones who aren't too drunk and have a working car."

She punctuates her sentence with a wave of her hand towards their stoned friends and a melody-like laughter.

"Yeah, no problem Maya, I can do that."

Liam turns and quickly takes his keys from the ping-pong table, then looks up, looking for someone in the crowd:

“Eleanor! Do you want me to drive you home too or do you already have a driver? "

Of course, Liam would ask that, he is such a gentleman. Louis rolls his eyes but is proud to have such a best friend.

"No thanks, it's okay, I already have someone. I trust you to take her back home healthy and well, Payne, so don't disappoint me."

The last part is unnecessary, of course Liam will bring Maya home safe and sound. Liam does not ask Louis if he wants to come home too, he already knows the answer, so he walks over to Maya, holds out his arm, and they leave with a final bow.

Now it is just Louis and the rest of the world. _Tommo The Tease_ must return if he is to survive it.

Eleanor's words still spin in his head, however, and his 2 beers affect his thoughts, so Louis turns and searches for the girl in the crowd.

“Hey El! Shall I take you back to your friends?" he exclaims with a smirk.

Across the room, Eleanor turns gracefully, her long, sleek hair flying around her. She stares at the young man, trying to read his game; it weighs the pros and cons. Finally, a playful smile on her lips, she nods, and crosses the room to cling to Louis's arm. His teammates whistle as they leave the room; obviously, they remain the star couple, even after a breakup.

Louis does not have to ask Eleanor where to take her, he knows the cheerleaders are gathering around the pool. They take a few steps in silence before Louis brings up the subject that is bothering him.

"So who is this driver?" he said nonchalantly.

Eleanor does not take the bait: she gives him a sidelong glance, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Why do you want to know, Tomlinson?"

She looks like a feline, with that petty glint in her hazel eyes. She seems to be enjoying herself.

"Are you jealous, maybe? Do you already regret our breakup?"

Louis suspected she would say that. She really seems to forget he is gay sometimes.

“You know very well not." he replies rolling his eyes; the girl laughs softly. "Is that the same guy from Kylie's party?" he then asks.

He wants to know; he has to know the answer. If he is indeed the same boy from the last time, that means Louis has a chance to see him again. He just smiles at the idea, even if it means he will have to stay with Eleanor too.

The young girl seems to be studying the pros and cons of answering him; she always does that with Louis, she looks at which situation is more advantageous to her. After a breakup, it is always the one who will have the most control.

Suddenly Eleanor sighs softly. She pulls on Louis's arm, diverting him from their path outside. She leads him to the kitchen.

"Yeah, he's the same guy as last time. And if by pure chance you ask me about him because you worry about me, well there is no reason to: even if he wanted to hurt me, he couldn't." she said in a cold, dry tone, cutting off any possible questions.

Eleanor takes the drink she was preparing and redirects them outside, as if she hasn't just piqued Louis' curiosity more than before. He feels a little bad not to care about Eleanor's safety, he has known her since they were children, but he also knows that she can fend for herself: she is strong and courageous, she does not risk anything against a poor boy.

They finally arrive outside; the music is less loud there. The cheerleaders are indeed sitting around the pool, their legs dipped in the water, cocktails by their side. They are pretty, like a painting. They look like a display of wax dolls, all sitting in scanty clothes, laughing softly, showing their pretty white teeth hidden behind their painted lips. They are intimidating, too, like a herd of gazelles, ready to defend themselves from each other; Louis is not afraid of them, these young girls know the difference between a lion and a tiger.

Louis does not come forward more than necessary, does not want to attract attention. It is a waste of time, he's Louis Tomlinson after all, but it is good to try.

Eleanor leans in to kiss his cheek, then pulls away from him. She gives him a playful wink before joining her friends, and Louis cannot help a light smile as he rolls his eyes. Even though Eleanor is a bitch who pretended to be his girlfriend for 3 years now, Louis appreciates her anyway. They were friends first, after all.

Without Liam and Zayn, it is hard to have a good evening. Fortunately, his teammates do not use the subject of Eleanor, so Louis can get drunk quietly. He spends most of the evening alongside Stan and Oli, playing Beer Pong and challenging the younger ones. Louis also spends a lot of time crowd-watching, waking up when he finds a brown figure in the crowd: it is never the boy, though. Louis is almost starting to hate brunettes.

Finally, the evening ends around 5 a.m. Louis drank, _drank way too much_ , but he had a fairly good evening. Over the past year he mostly yelled at his teammates, gave them dozens of sports exercises to do: they had kind of lost that friendship they all had before Louis was named captain. He has the power to kick them off the team for 2 years now, and he has often made it clear to them that he will not hold back, so there was some tension between them. Now that the year was ended, and the workouts were over, the tension had slowly subsided.

Louis had reunited with his old friends, and that was probably the only bright side of the evening. Because apart from that, Eleanor had ended up coming home with Gigi, and the boy had not appeared all night.

That evening, in addition to being exhausted and drunk, Louis came home disappointed and sad.

The boy seemed close to Eleanor, they seemed to know each other for a long time, so why hadn't Louis seen him before? If for years he had been over Louis' radars, does he even have a chance to see him again?

Louis sighs for a long time, lying against his bed, before falling asleep.

He should have drunk more.

\------------------------------------

His phone rings loudly near his ear and hurts his eardrums; the light has been illuminating the room for a while now, and Louis is surprised that it hadn't woken him up sooner. A glance at his phone was enough for him to see Liam's name displayed on the screen, covering a photo of his best mate dressed as a banana. The call ends as Louis is about to pick up. He is not worried, if it matters, the other boy will call back.

The apartment is empty, ominously silent, after all the parties they have had. Now that he is awake, Louis sees no reason to stay in bed, so he decides to go to lunch. He takes a long time to get out of his sheets, more because they stick to his skin than from fatigue. The nights are hot and muggy, and Louis has not worn a t-shirt to sleep for a long time.

The young man stretched out slowly, trying to get that tired feeling out of his arms, yawning loudly. Liam hates it when he does that, but Liam is not there, so Louis is not going to hold back. Why isn't he here anyway? It is Sunday, they are supposed to do nothing, and play FIFA all day. What the hell can Liam do?

As if to answer his question, his phone rings again, a short sound, announcing the arrival of a message. Surely Liam.

Louis searches for the device in his messy sheets when the bells ring again. Two messages. It may be important after all. Barely a few seconds later, Louis spots his phone under his pillow. The messages are from Liam, and glow against the dark wallpaper.

**well done! ur late on the 1st day of ur senior year! :D - xx liam**

**nah but no kidding, hurry up and get ur ass here quick, cowbell is already starting his speech**

The hand lazily stroking his stomach freezes under his shirt, and Louis's eyes widen at the realization.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

They are not Sunday, they are Monday.

The Monday of the _fucking_ start of class.

\------------------------------------

“You! "

Several students turn around at Louis' yells, but the boy pays no attention: he makes his way to his furious best friend.

"Shitty motherfucker! "

Liam stands at the end of the hall, innocently chatting with Maya and Max, another player of the football team. He acts like he has not broken their best friend pact, and that pisses Louis off more than he already was. He quickens his steps, jostling a boy without doing it on purpose.

“Fucking bastard! How could you?!" Louis shouts again, still to his best friend.

Liam finally turns around, far too calmly for his safety. He easily finds Louis in the crowd of students: the students move aside as Louis passes, eyes wide and lost. Some do it because they know he is Louis Tomlinson, others do it because they do not know yet who Louis Tomlinson is.

Louis continues to walk towards the young man, intimidating, and Liam finally seems to realize the threat hanging over him, as his expression changes dramatically. His face is a mixture of fun and fear, and Louis would have burst out laughing if it were not for, well, _this one_.

“Louis!" Liam tempts with a forced smile when his friend walks up to him.

The young man stretches out his arms for a hug, but Louis ignores him: instead, he leans closer, fixes his blue eyes into his friend's brown ones, and speaks in his coldest voice.

"You're an asshole, Payno. A fucking asshole."

Liam regains his seriousness, although a hint of mockery remains in his eyes. Louis already knows what to expect.

"Coming from the king of assholes, it's an honor, Tommo. A _fucking_ honor."

Louis is not hurt by Liam's words, just as Liam is not hurt by his. These kinds of arguments are not new, it is not like their friendship is at stake; they will probably end up arm in arm, laughing at it like good old companions.

All around them, the students are whispering. They hear them, but they are used to it. They keep staring unconcerned, Max's sneers in the background.

"What happened again?" Maya intervenes.

The girl is leaning on one leg, one hand on her hip. She looks exasperated, but Louis knows she is having fun. He is surprised she did not intervene sooner.

“Nothing, Louis is just dramatic.

\- Dramatic? Me?" the young man takes the time to put his sentence down, to leave a truly dramatic pause, before continuing: "probably, yes, but at least I'm not a traitor."

He knows his friends are rolling their eyes behind him (especially Maya), but he also knows they are having fun. If Louis is known as the captain of the team, he is also the clown of the group. He likes to play, exaggerate his expressions, and scream in the halls, that is who he is, and it's a bonus if it helps his reputation.

“I am not a traitor. I'm a perfect best friend, who preferred to let you sleep: you looked so exhausted last night.

\- The first day of school! You let me sleep on the first day of class!"

Their friends laugh, as Louis raises his arms in the air. Liam really tries to keep his seriousness, but he fails. Finally, Maya calms down, her melodic chuckle slowly diminishing.

"Louis, tell me, how old are you?

\- 21 years old."

He responds like it is the most obvious thing, and Maya tries hard not to start laughing again.

“Um okay. Don't you think you're old enough to wake up on your own?"

The smile on Maya's face is not mocking but teasing. Louis rolls his eyes excessively.

"Why do this when I live with a mature, responsible man who is there to take care of me?"

It is Liam's turn to roll his eyes. He exchanges a look with Maya, but when he wants to speak, the young girl's attention is diverted.

“Eleanor! There you are!"

All eyes are on the newcomer: she walks towards them with a smile. She wears a little black dress that highlights her body; he sees Max standing up out of the corner of his eye. Eleanor seems in her element, navigating between the students with that jovial look on her face: she gives off a strong energy, she looks like a queen. When she joins their little group, she does not glance at Louis; Louis does not care.

"Where have you been all this time? I saw you while Cowbell was giving his speech, then you disappeared!" Maya exclaims as she hugs her friend.

"Sorry May, my father insisted that I go with Harry to get his stuff back from his dorm. A waste of time, honestly, he could have settled in the frat in weeks ago."

The recent break-up between Louis and Eleanor, already two months old, does not scramble the exchanges: they are all used to it now. The two girls quickly melt into a discussion, in which the boys do not take part. Louis and Liam continue to bicker about the morning itself, but they both know that there are no more grudges between them. Max laughs at them, intervening once or twice.

Sure, being late for the first day of school is crap, especially when it is your senior year, but it is not like Louis isn't used to it. Best of all, it is not like the teachers are not used to it. Louis has already broken so many rules, and seriously does not have much to do with lessons, so if he is still a student at this university, it is mostly because he's the captain of the team. football, and that this gives him almost all the rights. He has led their team at the top of the standings for 2 years now, they would never dare to fire him: their fame risked too much.

As the clock ticks, the students begin to clear the hallway. Classes start, the real ones, and Louis and Liam must return to their room as soon as possible. They take their time, however. Maya and Eleanor are still chatting so much. Max has been gone for a while now, a friend of his came to pick him up for a locker story (Louis knows it has nothing to do with lockers, Maxis surely smoking behind buildings, or bully a freshman).

Louis's attention is diverted as he feels someone cling to his arm. The young man looks down to see Eleanor smile softly at him. She who ignored him from the start seems to have set her sights on him, again.

"Hi." she said in her soft voice, but Louis spotted the petty tip of her voice. No one else is able to notice it, however, no one has been through as much as Eleanor and Louis together.

“Hi Eleanor. Everything is fine?" Louis replies with a forced smile that could fool anyone.

"Everything is fine, don't worry." The young girl's smile has a fake sparkle. She forces a chuckle, and Louis refrains from rolling his eyes. It is a play, and Louis has the main role, he must not break the character. "I was wondering, how would you like to stop by the house tonight? We could watch a movie." she finally asked.

Someone yells from across the hall; Louis takes a look, and he finally notices that Liam and Maya are gone, leaving him alone with Eleanor. They do not identify the young man who just screamed, however.

They start walking again, slowly. Eleanor leans lightly on Louis, as if to remind him that she is still there, and the young man returns his attention to her.

He does not really know if this is a good idea. Since their breakup, Eleanor has been trying to get him back. Although she never said it explicitly, Louis guessed it: after she saw that Louis was not coming back after 2 weeks, she had started turning around him again, acting like 'a simple friend'. Louis sees clearly in her actions, and even though he is nowhere near falling into her nets, he remains on his guard. All this is just a game for him, however, of which he is a master and a player; he has more control over the situation than Eleanor because he _knows_ her motives. This is all just a game, and Louis never turns down a game.

"It would be with pleasure! Only if I can choose the movie, though." he exclaims falsely.

Eleanor does not seem surprised at his answer, she smiles with satisfaction. Louis wants to get that smug look off her face, so he leans forward, and places a kiss on her forehead. He feels her freezing against him, and he suppresses a sneer. He has got all the cards in his hand, and Eleanor will not be able to beat him, maybe no matter how many times she sticks to him and implicitly makes advances to him.

When Louis pulls away from the girl's grip, he relishes the blush on her cheeks and the glint in her eyes. Eleanor can be weird sometimes.

When Louis and Eleanor finally arrive in the conference room, classes have already started a long time ago, but the teacher only rolls his eyes when he recognizes them. Eleanor is still clinging to his arm when they enter the room, and Louis feels Liam's confused gaze on him, but he ignores him and lets the young girl guide him to a place.

\------------------------------------

Classes have been over for a while when Eleanor and Louis finally make their way to the young man's car. They spent some time with a few friends before they left, to enjoy their days without homework. Eleanor is cheerful by his side, and for once, it is nothing fake.

When they get to the car, the young girl calmly takes a seat in the passenger seat, and turns on the radio, already adjusting the channels as Louis sits in and fires the engine. The two students spent so many hours in this car, driving from party to party. At first this fake relationship was good, they saw each other as two close friends, but over the years their popularity has went to their heads, and even though they stay close, they cannot call each other _good_ _friends_. Louis might regret it, but he does not like to rewrite the past, so he just starts the car, driving through the streets in silence.

When he thinks about it, two months have passed since he first saw the boy, alone, and last. Louis spent those two months looking for him, thinking about him: it came to nothing. Sometimes, like those times, calm and silent, he thinks he should just forget about it, move on. He who calls himself so strong and untouchable, stupidly bewildered by a mirage, he is almost ashamed of it. He cannot though: he cannot feel shabby. Because every time he thinks of the boy, his stomach turns, and he cannot feel his legs anymore, and his arms are limp, and even though it looks horrible, he feels _so_ _good_. So no, Louis cannot be ashamed of it.

Eleanor's hand rests on his thigh and snaps him out of his thoughts. She looks at him with amusement, but Louis ignores her. When he glances outside, he recognizes the surroundings of Eleanor's quarter; he decides to pay more attention to the road, if he does not want to end up in the scenery.

Louis ends up parking the car on the sidewalk, and Eleanor quickly gets out of the car. Her hair flutters behind her as she crosses the aisle, then she notices Louis not following her, and it turns around. Louis is still in the car.

It is not that Louis is afraid to come home, he has been to Eleanor's before, but only a few times. Louis has never met Eleanor's family, and this must be the 5th time he is ever stepped within these walls: he is going to be in uncharted waters and does not know what to expect. The information he has from Eleanor is from high school, she hasn't kept him up to date with anything new because they just don't talk about it, so everything Louis knows about his ex-longtime-girlfriend is that her parents are divorced, and that she has a complicated relationship with her father. Louis heard, at the parties, by the other players or cheerleaders, some information, here and there, like the fact that his father was dating new women, but he never checked these sources, so he does not know _literally_ nothing. Pitiful boyfriend, isn't he? At least it had all been fake.

Louis takes a deep breath, rebuilds his facade, returns to the role of _Tommo The Tease_ , and finally gets out of the car. Eleanor is not surprised how long it took: she does not know anything about Louis either, she understands the situation. That is probably why she invited him to her home, not to the movies, where everyone could see them and start the rumors about their re-relationship. She preferred the pressure of unknown to the pressure of rumors.

The house is silent when they come inside. Eleanor puts her purse on a table at the entrance and then walks into what appears to be the kitchen: Louis follows her because he has nothing else to do.

"Kendall wants to whack you, you know?" Eleanor says, coming out of nowhere. "She says you're just a _pretentious asshole who just plays with women's hearts_. You should be careful of yourself the next time you see her in the halls."

Louis chuckles softly as he imagines the scene: Kendall Jenner, acting that it is the end of the world if her nail breaks, trying to gut him. She would _not_ hurt him.

"She doesn't scare me, I know she won't do anything to me." he replies, and he knows he is right. Kendall and he are friends, Kendall is a pretty cool girl when she does not want to make Louis pay for all his break-ups.

Eleanor looks at him with an amused smile, going to take glasses in a closet. Louis watches her do, leaned against the counter. She locked her hazel eyes in his and joins him with a mischievous smile. Louis cannot tell what she plans but keeps his masks on. Maybe she is just trying to get friend with him, as for real, and not to manipulate him? Louis does not believe this possibility. And as to prove him right, Eleanor mimics trying to grab something from the counter, and leans forward, pressing her body against his. The girl literally forgot he is gay. In background, a door slammed loudly, but Louis does not pay attention, trying to push Eleanor away.

"Did you warn Mum that you were inviting people?"

The sudden voice makes Louis jump, and he looks away from the girl's burning eyes. Instead, he looks up to see who the newcomer is; his heart stops when he does.

 _The boy_. The newcomer is _the boy_.

He is in the kitchen, an American bandana pushing his curls back, wearing a white t-shirt similar to last time, and damn, he is _gorgeous_. Even more beautiful than in Louis' memories. The young man loses his breath. He no longer pays any attention to Eleanor, who pulls away from him and crosses her arms haughtily. Her eyes flash as she looks at the boy.

"How does that concern you?

\- She doesn't like it when we invite people without telling her. Even more when she's not home."

The boy speaks in a relaxed, almost disinterested manner. He walks over to the fridge without looking at them; Louis does not take his eyes off him. He held his breath for fear that a breath would make him disappear like a mirage. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eleanor roll her eyes; the way she leans on one leg with her arms still crossed makes her look like a pest.

"And dad forbade us to take his beers without his permission" the young girl said as the boy took out a beer from the fridge, "yet that's not what's stopping you, so I don't think you are in position to reproach me."

The way the boy rolls his eyes with a sigh before opening his beer and glaring at Eleanor makes Louis shiver from head to toe. The way his lips rest on the neck of the bottle, how his Adam's palm moves with each sip, his eyes still staring defiantly into Eleanor's; all these little things paralyze Louis, takes his breath away. _Everything_ about him is attractive. Then the boy sighs again (the way his gaze floats from point to point without never getting attach feels like butterfly into Louis' stomach) and crosses the kitchen to reach the other side.

He brushes past Louis, still not giving him a glance, when all Louis wants is to feel his eyes on him and touch his clear skin.

"Whatever. I wouldn't tell Mom. It's not like you would be scold if I tell her, anyway.

\- Oh, don’t start, Harry, I would do without your unnecessary comments. Go back to your room and leave us alone. "

The boy - _Harry_ \- finally pays attention to Louis: he rests his green eyes on him indifferently, his face blank, sending thousands of chills through Louis's body. Louis is immersed in these emerald orbs but sees him grab a banana out of the corner of his eye. Then the exchange is broken off, as _Harry_ leaves the kitchen, muttering a "at your command, Queen Eleanor" between his lips. As he disappears behind the corner of the wall, he raises his hand holding the banana, and gives a quick, selfless salute. Louis is _charmed_.

"I'm sorry for him, he can be really annoying sometimes…" the young girl said, her eyes still fixed on where _Harry_ had disappeared; she looked bored.

Louis stares at the same point, but with softer eyes, butterflies flying in his stomach and weak legs. He does not even feel stupid, just— _strange_. Then his brain finally registers the words spoken, the boy's presence in the house, and his eyes widen, as he sits up and looks at Eleanor.

"…He's your brother?"

Eleanor sighs for a long time, as if the boy's subject annoys her more than anything. She rolls her eyes once again, as she returns her attention to Louis.

" _Step_ -brother. Unfortunately. He is a real idiot."

All Louis can say is a slow 'oh', and before it even really starts, Louis knows he is in the shit.

He did not stay to see the movie, he hurried out of the Calder's house biting his nails, wondering why he had such a bad feeling. He finally broke up with Eleanor, he is supposedly free, it is supposed to be his year more than the others, why does he feel so pressed?

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is Harry, and Louis is just confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry abt any mistakes that this chapter could have, english isnt my mother language so i still have difficulties, hope you're ganna enjoy this chapter anyways :)

"So, you found him. "

Louis gasps as someone whispers near his ear. He almost falls from his chair, which he had been rocking on since the start of the conference. They are in the old college hall, the one still not equipped with quality material, so Louis sees nothing of the posted documents, and has long lost interest. When he turns around, he finds Zayn chuckling softly behind him. He is so discreet; Louis always forgets that they have this class in common.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, frowning.

He keeps his gaze fixed on the professor as he moves his chair back, so that he can talk to his friend. The feet creak on the ground, but Louis does not care. He smiles sarcastically at the students who give him angry looks; he is Louis Tomlinson, _Tommo The Tease_ , he can do whatever he wants.

"The guy you were looking for at Oli's party at the start of the vacation. You found him. "

Although Louis immediately sees who Zayn is talking about (he only looked for one person during the holidays: _Harry_ ), he still takes a moment to remember the party. It is true that he has not seen Zayn properly since that night, he was always with his teammates or Zayn with his own friends when they bumped into each other.

"How do you know I found him?" Louis asks, curious.

"You're not dating Eleanor." Then, after a break: "She was planning on asking you last night. If you're not with her, that means you've found your reason for being single."

Zayn explains calmly, his eyes riveted on the projected screen. Louis is still staring at him, rocking in his chair again. He is not surprised at Zayn's deduction skills, he has always been insightful, he is just _impressed_. Zayn seems to know everything about everyone.

With a sigh, Louis returns his attention to the professor. He is not listening though, why would he?

“Yeah, I found him." Louis chuckles softly as he recalls the events of the day before. "Eleanor was about to kiss me when he came out of nowhere. I was shocked, I did not say a word before leaving the house.

\- Oh, so you were looking for Harry."

And just like that, Louis’ heart stop.

For the second time in class, Louis almost fell from his chair. He sat up at Harry's name forgetting that his chair only stood on two legs and caught himself up on his table with a noise. The students look at him again, but all Louis can think of is Zayn coming up and saying _Harry's_ _name_.

" You know him?" he asks urgently, totally turned to his friend this time.

"I know everyone, Louis." Zayn chuckles as Louis rolls his eyes. "But yes, I know Harry pretty well. He was reluctant to join the arts club a year ago, since we've kept in touch. He's a good guy, a real bitch sometimes but still a good guy."

Louis recognizes that smile on his friend's lips: a gentle, protective smile. Harry must be a good person to deserve that kind of smile; Zayn only gives it to those who are really worth it. Louis did not feel like it the two times he met him, but appearances are deceiving (look at his case, he looks like the perfect popular little het when he is as gay as his wrist can be). It makes Louis want to know the boy even more, as if he could be more obsessed than he already was.

"Tell me about him" Louis said without thinking.

He must have a weird face, because Zayn rolls his eyes with a smile.

"No. Where’s the point in it? You have to get to know him by yourself. Moreover, if he sees that you already know all about him as he knows nothing about you, he will never let you near him."

Zayn stops talking and gives to Louis _the_ look. Louis wants to tell him that Harry probably knows more about him than he knows about the younger man, because he is in fact _Louis Tomlinson_. Instead, he rests his chair on all four legs and suppresses a smile.

"Okay. It seems fair to me." Zayn nods slowly, as if Louis had just made one of the more reasonable choices. "But at least tell me his class. So that I know where to find him."

Louis does not know what he said that was so funny as he watched his friend snicker. Finally, giggling is a big word, for Zayn it is more of a smirk with a small sigh. When he is really amused, like now, he turns his head to the side, brushing his tongue against his lips, to prevent a real smile from appearing. It always makes Louis laugh.

"He's in his second year, and I'm surprised you've never noticed him before because he's not exactly the low key. If you're interested, then he has to come home from the college library right now. That’s all I’m going to tell you, though. "

Louis stares at his friend as Zayn stands up; his chair makes no noise on the ground; he seems to move like a shadow.

“Bye, _Tommo The Tease_. Have fun." he says before throwing his bag over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips.

Zayn walks through the back doors of the room like a ghost, with no sounds to distract the students. Louis is too lost in his thoughts to pay attention. He does not learn much, but he does learn enough to know where to go during the lunchbreak.

There are a few minutes left of silently rocking in his chair, checking the time on his phone, but the minutes go by too slowly, and the smile on his lips is too real. So, as Zayn did a few minutes before, Louis gets up from his chair and leaves the room. The doors slam behind him, but he ignores it: he goes to the sophomore buildings to find Harry.

\------------------------------------

"So, to make it short, you have a huge crush on Eleanor's stepbrother?" Liam asks, and you can hear in his voice that he is confused.

Louis is not surprised, he expected this reaction: he had not told his best friend about Harry yet, so dropping the bomb like this in an emergency was not the best solution. All he gives in response is a nod, his attention still on the crowd.

Louis had gone to find Liam in his amphitheater-class a few minutes ago and asked him to come "get Harry" with him. This is when Liam frowned and repeated " _Harry_?" with the most confused face Louis had remembered he knew nothing about _him_ , so he had spent the last ten minutes explaining to him who Harry was. Omitting all the irrelevant details like how soft his chocolate curls look, and his red lips look so sweet, and his green eyes— He had only seen him twice, _damnit_ , how can he react that way?

Lucky for him, Liam, being the good friend he was, did not cut him off, did not intervene once, and now knows the reason for Louis's unusual actions. Like his nervous breakdown in the middle of the kitchen. Or his breakup with Eleanor _after_ his hysterics in the middle of the kitchen. _Approximately_.

"Good. That explains a lot of things, I guess— "

Liam begins to speak, but Louis suddenly sits up, his face lit with a _Tommo_ TM smile, and Liam knows what he says will not be heard again. Louis found Harry.

The student has the bright smile again that Liam has seen so little of him lately. Louis taps best friend's shoulder with one hand, quickly, to tell him to wait, before walking through the crowd, and Liam just follows him with his eyes.

As Louis walks through the crowd, Harry does not spot him (he has got his back after all); the young man waves to his friends before turning to his locker. Louis seizes this chance and joins him quickly.

"Hey Curly!" he says as he leans against the lockers with his arms crossed.

He cannot see Harry's face, hidden behind the locker door, and Harry cannot see him either. However, he answers tit for tat, with the same indifferent air that makes Louis lose his means.

"Fuck you Tomlinson. Go back to fool around with the football team's bootlickers, I can do without you."

Harry's tone is dry, and Louis is not sure he heard correctly. He keeps a smile, although confused, as he watches the other boy put his stuff in his locker. Louis frowns. Maybe he is having a bad hair day, Louis has no reason to be upset.

"Excuse me?"

The young man finally decides to give him a look; Louis has not spent a lot of time with Harry, but he knows he does not give it to everyone. As he lays his emerald eyes on him, Louis feels those same chills run down his back and reach his neck. It is nice, he could get used to that feeling.

"You heard me really well, idiot." Harry resumes, and Louis is lost and confused. "You already have a big enough fanbase, you don't need to sign me up. Go back to strut with your friends and leave me alone."

Uh. Who does this kid think he is? Louis has many haters on campus, but none have spoken to him that way. He is trying to be nice, outgoing, to get a shot, and is that what he gets in return?

As Louis prepares to reply, Harry slams the door to his locker, throws his bag over his shoulder, and walks back down the hall, without a last glance. Louis seethes with anger as he watches the other boy disappear into his crowd, as he stands there, leaning against the lockers.

He does not know what just happened, but he was expecting anything but that. How can someone be so mean when nothing happened to them? Louis never spoke to Harry, never hurt him, so this behavior did not make sense.

"So? How did that happen?" Liam asks, who has just joined him. He stares at the same point as Louis, but more calmly.

The question brings Louis out of his trance.

"That little one—" he whispers between his teeth.

He does not finish his sentence; he just comes away from the lockers, clicking his tongue against his palate, and turns around, walking back to the cafeteria. The hallway is crowded, but Liam manages to follow him.

"Calm down Louis, it's probably nothing." he tries softly while he elbows his way through.

Even without knowing the events, Liam tries to comfort his friend, because if Louis is really upset it could cause damages. Most of the time Louis is glad his best friend helps him not to explode, but sometimes it is just frustrating.

"It's nothing? Didn't you hear him tell me to fuck off?" Louis exclaims, without glancing at his friend. "It's not even about me Payno, it's about fucking respect. He's a fucking sophomore, he can't talk to a senior like that."

Louis clenches his fists, continues to make his way. Liam is confused. Louis is rarely _really_ upset, so when he is it is easily noticed, and from Louis' reactions, Liam knows he is not upset. No, that is something other than anger, and that is why Liam is so confused.

Then Louis gently bites his lip, and Liam understands. He does not know what happened, but he knows what is _going_ to happen. He does not try to stop a laugh from leaving his mouth, as he continues to follow Louis, with more energy this time, more _confidence_.

"You like it, though" he finally said with a smile; it is sneaky and petty, and it does not match the Liam people know; ~~it is him though~~.

At these words, Louis runs his tongue over his teeth, then sneers softly. His muscles do not relax, but he does not hold back the sly smirk who is his master.

Liam knows him so well.

" Of course I do. If Harry wants to play, I'll play with him."

\------------------------------------

The front door slams against the wall as Louis walks into the apartment. He throws his bag on the ground, not bothering to disturb the downstairs neighbors because of the noise. He is in a bad mood; he does not see why he should hold back just for half-deaf old people.

Liam is sitting there in the living room, sprawled out on their couch, the remote still pointed at their small television as he stares at Louis, frowning. Louis pays no attention, just walks into the kitchen to make himself some tea. It's been a hard day, he deserves this little treat.

The kettle burns as he grabs it, and he curses, nearly spilling over its container. This puts him even more in a bad mood, and Liam's confused gaze does not help.

"Stop fucking staring at me like that, I know I'm gorgeous but calm your hormones Payno" Louis said irritably, as he ran his hand under the cold water.

Liam rolls his eyes, not without a smirk, then turns back to the television, finally changing the channel. Louis refills his cup again, without burning himself this time, then walks towards the living room. The couch squeaks under him as he slumps limply on it, his best friend let out a whimper like every time Louis risks the life of their furniture.

After a moment of silence, with the only sound of Ratatouille in the background, Liam finally speaks: "You argued again, right? "

Louis sighs softly, remembering the scene. Two weeks have passed since his first _real_ interaction with Harry, and things are not getting better. Harry is still the arrogant little asshole he was the first time around, and Louis is still just as confused by this behavior as ever. He flirts, winks at him from the other side of the canteen, smiles softly at him in the hallways, tries to start small talk, but despite this Harry continues to send him strolling, as if Louis was just an element of the decor. If he had done something to deserve it, he would understand, but other than his popularity, he saw nothing that could upset Harry. The latter always insults his football team and his friends, and Louis does not understand the purpose of that.

He continued to play the game, however. He continued to address him in the dining hall, shout his name in the hallways, and even managed, only once, to remove his bandana. He sees Harry's angry face again, surrounded by his beautiful brown curls, falling on his emerald eyes. Louis's heart had sped up, and even though the young man insulted him with all names by snatching the bandana from his hands, Louis had not stopped smiling. He knew there was a nice Harry, it showed in his eyes, and in the way he spoke to his friends. All Louis wanted was to see this part of Harry, because he knows it is the most beautiful. He is sure and certain. It is going to be hard to see it, however, given the usual arguments that now happen to them on a daily basis.

“First of all, these aren't arguments, Liam. It's more awkward flirtation," Louis begins, as an amused smile resurfaces on his lips.

"So you admit it's awkward, it’s a good beginning. At least you don't leave stupid messages for him in his locker.

\- I'm not so desperate, thank you very much. Let me finish now: yes, it's Harry's fault if I'm in this mood." Louis takes a sip of his tea, and Liam frowns. "I ran into him when I was out of college, he was with Eleanor and a blond guy. I walked over to talk with Eleanor and Eleanor only—

\- For sure! It’s not like you don't care about her _at all_."

Louis ignores Liam's grumbling, just gently slaps his stomach before continuing:

"When I got there Harry got upset right away, and he told me to get out, Eleanor didn't appreciate him talking to me like that, and yelled at him. As if I need to be defended, seriously." Louis lets out a small sneer, and Liam rolls his eyes (again). "I don't understand why there is so much tension between them, Eleanor should be happy to have a stepbrother as hot as Harry."

As he takes a sip of his tea, Liam takes the opportunity to speak. He speaks with this exasperated tone that matches him so well, but Louis listens anyway.

"Like you said, Harry is Eleanor's stepbrother. Like, they have the same parents. If she found him hot, that would be weird, Louis.

\- Not at all. It wouldn't be weird, it would be objective. "

Louis hears Liam chuckling softly next to him and laughs in turn. He is glad Liam did not judge him for his sudden attention to Harry. He knows he is not the type to get attached and is grateful that his best friend has not pointed it out to him.

They spend a few minutes in silence watching the stupid cartoon on TV. Louis does not understand why Liam chose this one, it is not even interesting. He is already seen this movie dozens of times with his sisters, and frankly if Liam wanted to watch a children's cartoon, he could have chosen a thousand times better but hey, never mind, sharing the television is one of the drawbacks of Colocation. He would not trade it for anything the world.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, but Louis is too lazy to move. He has to do it, though, so he pushes himself back onto his elbows, puts his mug on the coffee table, and stands up, stretching. He has only been sitting for a few minutes, but he feels like he is waking up from a long nap. Probably the effects of an old, comfortable sofa, and a long day of work and overhauls.

When Louis turns on his phone, a message from their coach flashes on the screen.

**Don't forget to report back to me on the new registration forms, Tomlinson. The selections are in two days.**

Damn, the selections. Louis had totally forgot all about it. He quickly types a response, promising that he is already read some of it (that is totally not true), then turns to his friend.

"I have to go read the registration forms for the new ones for the football team, the selections are the day after tomorrow. I'll leave you alone with Ratatouille, order whatever you want to eat as long as it's not Japanese."

The speed with which Liam turns his head towards him is frightening, Louis is surprised he has not broken his neck.

“Why not Japanese? Japanese is super good."

Ugh, Louis should have known. Of course, Liam would love it.

"Stop your bullshit, Payno. It's like, something that people like because it's trendy. We're not that kind of people, Payno, so you don't order this for the meal."

Liam growls, and Louis throws a pillow at him in response. It is childish, but that is how they work, and they work pretty well if you asked them. A good ten years have passed since they met, and although the beginnings were difficult, they are inseparable now. They have come so far since then; Louis is proud of them.

Finally, Louis leaves the living room, after a final kick to his best friend. He forgot his cup of tea on the table, but he is too lazy to turn around: Liam will wash it for him, that is fine, he is used to it.

"Good luck with the files," Liam shouts as Louis is on the stairs, oblivious to disturbing the neighbors.

The young man shouts a quick 'thank you' in response before slamming the door behind him. He will try to forget about Harry for a while and finally concentrate on his work. There is a long way to go, but anyways.

\------------------------------------

The selections for the football team consist of short 15-minute short matches, during which their coach observes new players and chooses those who may be useful to the team. Louis has to play with the new guys, of course, because otherwise it would not be fun. It is a boring time, because Louis rather plays with his teammates than with some new guys. At least, he already knows his teammates has the level; most of the time, half of the new player sucks. Louis _hates_ selections.

The new registrants stand lined up, one beside the other, silent. Only some will be able to stay. Louis read the registration forms and only first and second years showed up this year, which is actually a good thing. Louis identifies them one by one, shouts at them to stand up straight, then sends them into a team; all of that screaming is not in the process at all, and the kids look stressed, but it is fun. The other players are already practicing, but they often stop for a few seconds to laugh at Louis's staging. He cannot help it, it's a real entertainment for him. At least it is a fun way to make teams.

Louis continues to advance along the line, passes to the next boy, like a commander checking his troops, and he holds back a smirk from forming on his lips. He stops in front of a boy, searches his index cards to identify him, but cannot find the sheet. The young boy must notice it, because he discloses his identity.

"Niall Horan, in second year." the boy said softly, leaning slightly towards Louis to see the papers.

Louis looks up and stares at the young man. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, and Louis is sure he has seen him somewhere before. His vicious gaze, light smile, it is definitely familiar, and Louis almost regrets not paying attention to the extras in his busy life.

"It's nice to try but it won't help, I don't know your forms by heart, kid," he finally responds with a sneer.

The other boy, Niall, does not seem to take it badly, he even smiles slightly. He looks like a good kid, that is cool. Louis goes back to his papers, and finally finds the correct form. Niall James Horan, second year, striker, energetic play and good cohesion with a team, a good element although very noisy. _Sneer_. Louis can handle the loud ones.

Quickly, he compares Niall's statistics with those of the other players, then starts walking again, his nose in his papers.

"Horan, team number 1. Hemmings, you move to team number 2."

Both players nod, and Louis picks up where he left off, moving on to the next boy.

Once the teams finish, the matches begin. Louis cannot deny that some players are good, even particularly good. For the most part, however, they are at an average level, the bare minimum to be recognized.

Louis exchanges glances with the coach as he plays. He runs, tackles, shoots, _scores_. The first years are surprised at his level, the second years already know him and his game. Even though he is not with his regular team-mates, Louis feels in his shoes, on the pitch, with the ball at his foot. Football has always been an escape for him, a way to escape from his everyday life, from his reality, from a noisy house, from screaming parents. From a fake girlfriend too.

Louis will always remember those nights in the park with Liam, playing until the early hours of the morning, talking to each other about anything and everything. These memories are real pearls for Louis, even if he will never say them out loud. He doesn't need it anyway; Liam already knows that. Liam will always know.

A whistle sounds, the selective matches are over. The coach will name the selected players, who will stay for the rest of the practice; the others will go home. Louis shoots the ball one last time and joins the benches to take his bottle. He does not bother to share his thoughts with the coach, he knows he will keep the ones Louis wants. He watches the coach shouting names; his teammates on the other end of the field, who are practicing shots, stop and watch too. They want to see what their new players look like.

As Louis slowly stretches himself, lost in thought, movement to his right catches his attention, and the boy turns his head with a confused look. As the fired collect their things and return to the locker room, Niall gestures towards a point behind them, with a huge smile plastered on his face. Seeing as he is in no rush to leave the field, Louis assumes he is selected. _Good_.

As the blond continued his strange gestures, Louis frowned. He stops stretching, turns around, and his heart stops.

 _Harry_.

No sooner has he laid eyes on the other boy than Louis turns away, as if burnt. He only saw him for a second, but it was enough to ignite his entire body. Harry will always have that effect on him, and he does not even blame him.

Then when his heartbeat resumes normally, Louis understands. The blond, _Niall_ , is one of Harry's friends, the one who spends his time with him. He is the noisy kid who follows Harry around, and runs through the halls. Louis had never paid attention to him, but damn he _should_ hiave. It would have saved him cardiac arrest right in the middle of the pitch. _Shit_.

Louis takes a look at his stuff, makes sure they are in order, then strides towards Niall. He feels like his legs are shaking, he does not know what to do with his arms. He knows Harry is not looking at him, but he is still uneasy. It is kind of pathetic.

“Oi, Nialler!" Louis yells as he walks over to the blonde.

The young man turns around quickly, not seeming to mind the sudden nickname: "Yes captain?" He responds casually, and Louis knows that with or without Harry he would have befriended the other boy anyway.

"Is that your mate over there?"

Louis asks the question without embarrassment; he does not see why he should be embarrassed. Niall frowns, turns his head to Harry again, then turns back to Louis, with a big smile this time. An amused, mocking, and _satisfied_ smile.

"Yes it's him! I was wondering how long it would take you to see him, you always seem to notice him down the hall so I wanted to see how it would be on a field."

It is provocative. Louis is not even angry. He lets a smirk creep onto his lips, before wrapping his arm around the young boy's shoulder.

"You, I like you already," he whispers through his teeth as he pulls Niall behind him.

And that is true. Louis likes him, this casual and funny Irishman. To be sure, even without Harry's intervention, Louis would have become friends with him. He is a good lad.

\------------------------------------

The practice has been hard and long, Louis's muscles seem to be burning as he walks towards the locker room. He feels like his body is just a heavy load on his legs, he has difficulty moving. He is so exhausted and lets out a long complaint as he opens the locker room door for his teammates; they laugh, although they understand the feeling.

Louis lets the other boys in, congratulating the selected newcomers with a high five. He does not know why he is doing this, really, it is just painful and tiring. When he finally enters the locker room, the shower water is already flowing, and laughter and various discussions echo against the walls.

Louis does not even notice it. All he notices is Harry.

Harry, here just in front of him, leaning against the lockers, his phone in his hand. As if his place was there, as if this locker room was his. Louis is just frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the other boy, as we observe a work in a museum. The student's hood is pulled up over his head, his curls falling softly on his face. Louis would like to be the one pulling them. They seem so sweet. Harry looks so sweet. Even with his dark gaze, Harry is sweet.

Louis glances at the door, not really knowing if he is checking that no one is arriving or if he is looking for a reason to leave, but neither of the boys appear, so he walks over to Harry.

"It's reserved for the players, Harry."

Louis's voice rings clear above the sound of flowing water. Harry seems to freeze in his voice, but nothing is certain. On one hand, Louis feels like he is having an effect on him, and on the other Harry does not even calculate his presence, does not even give him a look.

"Leave me alone Tomlinson, it's not like I'm disturbing," Harry answers coldly, and Louis shivers.

The boy makes no gesture, no movement; he stays leaning against the locker, gives Louis a quick glance before rolling his eyes. It is better than just being ignoring it, but still not a pleasant experience.

After realizing that Harry has no intention of moving, Louis rolls his eyes too. No matter how big his crush on the other boy is, he cannot deny that he can be really annoying.

"Harry, seriously—" Louis begins, but the concerned chuckle and cuts him off.

"Nah but no joke, Tomlinson. Of the two of us I'm the one who bothers the least. It’s not me, the gay in a locker room full of half-naked boys."

And that is the last straw on the camel’s back. Louis can deal with pointless arguments, remarks about his popularity, but he will never let Harry insult him about his _sexuality_. He does not know how Harry knows it, he does not even know if Harry really _does_ know, but that does not matter. Whether Louis is gay or not, the other boy has no right to say that, no matter what the situation, whoever he is talking to.

Louis clenches his fists, refrains from hitting anything. His jaw is contracted, and although his body exudes anger, he maintains a neutral and cold face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he then declares as he approaches Harry. "You're a little virgin from second year, with what seems like a huge inferiority complex, so you're in a bad position to judge others, Harry. Your fits of jealousy are fine for a while, but you will have to start to mature a little. So I suggest you to calm down, to come down from your shitty little pedestal, and to start talking to me differently."

As he speaks, Louis walks towards the young man, so much so that they are now face to face. Louis is a few millimeters shorter than Harry but that does not faze him: he knows how to be intimidating, he goes not runs out of stupid students who try to challenge him. He keeps his ocean gaze fixed on the other boy's emerald eyes; he speaks in that haughty, cold tone that suits him so well. He does not even have to raise his voice or raise his fist; he just has to step forward and cite facts, he just has to show Harry that as sassy as he is, he is nothing more than a silly and insignificant brat.

The shower door creaks, and the laughter of the players becomes clearer. Louis walks away from the boy without taking his eyes off him as his teammates enter the locker room.

"Tommo? Everything okay?" Liam asks as he joins him. He only needs a second to figure the situation out, seeing the flash of lightning in his eyes.

"Yeah, don’t worry Payno, it's okay. I'm going to take a shower, you don't have to wait for me."

Louis finally takes his ocean blue eyes away from Harry's emerald ones, and heads for the showers, grabbing his bag in the process.

He is mad, as he violently pushes the shower door open; he can feel the gaze of his teammates behind his back, but he does not pay attention. All he can think of is how much of an asshole Harry is. A fucking asshole, who really only cares about himself. There is no part of him that deserves attention, and Louis certainly will not give any to him. Not anymore. Never again.

\------------------------------------

Louis opens the heavy door by the shoulder, letting it slam against the wall as he stretches out. He just spent 4 hours sitting in an amphitheater, and even though he has not listened to anything the professor was saying, he is exhausted.

" _Tommo The Tease_!" a voice shouts to his right, and Louis smiles as he turns around.

"Hey Malik! You okay?" he replies as he joins his friend.

The young man is sitting on the floor, a notebook resting on his crossed legs. A pencil case rests on his messy black bag. He must have spent the last few hours sitting here in the sun, seeing his more colorful skin tone, and the almost finished cigarette resting against his lips.

The young man nods with a smile, and Louis notes that he looks happier than usual: probably the nicotine.

"So Tommo, what do I owe this visit from you?

\- Weed, Zayn. I’m here for the weed and nothing else. You know that." Louis responds teasingly, and he considers Zayn's sigh as a laugh.

"I'm surprised to see you so early. Usually, you wait until the evening to smoke."

He is right, Louis prefers to smoke in the evening, after a hard day, to relax his body, and exchange gossip with Zayn. Zayn is always more open after smoking, so he talks more, he says more words per minute. Conversations are obviously more structured.

"I had a fight with Harry. Two days ago. For real this time" Louis replies, and he doesn't know why the words are so hard to come out.

Zayn was aware of the many venomous exchanges Louis had with Harry, he kept him updated and when he did not, he could be sure Liam was giving him the information anyway. He hopes Zayn could untie the knot of his brain, because Louis keeps rehashing the events of the last time. He has not _really_ seen Harry since, and it is for the best.

"Oh yeah? Why?"

The other boy seems genuinely concerned; Louis is touched. It helps the words come out.

"He made a comment that I was gay and didn't belong in a men’s locker room or something like that. It got me out of my mind."

Louis pauses briefly, swallows. His throat is tight, as if he is going to cry. Probably the effect of being disappointed with something important to us. When did Harry even become important to him? It does not mean anything.

"I know he's your buddy, but he's a real asshole" he lets go without thinking, and he regrets none of his words.

Zayn does not answer. He takes another puff of his cigarette, then resumes his drawing. Only the sound of the pencil rubbing the paper is heard. Louis looks straight ahead, observes the branches of a tree gently fluttering in the wind. He is uncomfortable. He does not know what to say. A light breeze passes, and he shivers. Sometimes he forgets that it is autumn.

"I was a little violent at the time, that's true, but he really pissed me off," he tries to explain as he puts his jacket back on properly. He does not feel Zayn receptive. "Do you think I did wrong?"

No response yet. Louis hesitates. He finally lets the questions reach his brain, the ones he was trying hardly to keep away. Maybe he should not have yelled at the boy that way. As he said, Harry is just a brat, maybe he had not realized the significance of his words, maybe he had not thought about it. Louis thinks he is sorry.

"I shouldn't have told him that. Shit" he whispers softly, more to himself than to Zayn; then, louder, after a pause, Louis adds, "I should go apologize."

As the young man stands up, Zayn finally gets back into motion. He quickly grabs Louis's wrist and pulls him to the ground again. The young man has never put so much force into his actions, and this unsettles Louis, who falls violently on the tar. Why did the idiot do that? It hurts as hell.

As Louis turns to complain to his friend, he meets Zayn's stern gaze. His eyes shine a deep black, a cold that freezes blood. Louis has never seen such a _strong_ expression on his friend's face, and words fail him.

"Don't do that," Zayn begins, and his voice is as cold as his gaze. “Don't apologize, Louis. Harry is nice, but as you said he can be a real asshole sometimes, and he has to understand it. It's up to him to apologize, not you. He screwed up on that one, you did what you had to do."

Louis swallowed, lost. Zayn's eyes are still so dark, but also so expressive, and he does not know what to do. He does not feel in danger, no, but he does feel _observed_. As if Zayn is trying to find out if his words have been heard _and_ understood. His grip is still hard on Louis' wrist.

“I'm not kidding, Louis. Don't apologize to Harry. I forbid it. "

The silence is heavy, and all Louis wants is to flee. He is used to the neutral and calm Zayn, not the fierce and serious one. He just wants to break free from his friend's grip and leave.

That is what he does. He nods his head softly, and his gaze softens. Zayn releases his hold, gives him a shy smile, as if to apologize for the overflow of energy, then lets the student go without a word.

Louis still feels his gaze on his back as he turns around the corner of the gym. Damn, he needs to smoke again.

\------------------------------------

Louis thought about it a lot.

About his conversation with Zayn, about the flash in his eyes, about the coldness of his voice. It was strange, unusual, and that's probably why Louis thinks about it again. Because Zayn did not stay silent, did not just listen to Louis: he told him his opinion, he told him not to apologize. If even Zayn, who seems close to Harry, told him to not to do it, then that meant he _has to_ not do it.

_In the end, Louis had done well._

This is what he repeats to himself over the next week: that he did the right thing, that he did well. He repeats it to himself over and over again, because every time he crosses paths with Harry, Louis feels this urge in his body, this feeling of being _physically_ attracted to him, and it becomes harder and harder to resist. If anyone has to make the first move, it is not him, it is Harry.

But Harry did not make the first move. Why would he? To apologize? Certainly not, this word is not part of his vocabulary. He does not glance at Louis when they pass each other in the hallways, he does not say a word to him when Niall tries to strike up a conversation with his captain. No, Harry is not doing anything. Has Harry even done something?

Louis does not give up hope, however. Louis _hates_ himself to not give up hope.

He keeps slowing down when he sees him. He keeps glancing at him down the halls. He keeps finding excuses and justifications for his actions. He keeps waiting for a word, a look, a sigh. He keeps waiting for _Harry_. This is stupid. Louis hates himself. Louis hates Harry.

Anyways.

Louis lets these thoughts go away with a long sigh. Night is already falling; Louis feels that they have practiced enough for the day; his players are sweaty and out of breath. Time flies so quickly when you are lost in your thoughts. He whistles through his fingers, drawing the attention of his teammates.

"Well, practice is over, everyone in the locker room." he shouts once he has the guys’ attention.

He watches his comrades go slowly, as the rain begins to fall. Even though he is exhausted, he wants to try a few more shots. His game has been bad today, and he is mad at himself for letting his feelings distract him that much.

It does not feel right, though, so Louis stops. He leaves for the locker room, his football boots digging into the muddy ground. A balloon hangs out on the path, and he retrieves it, to wedge it under his arm. His rain-wet hair falls in his face, and he throws it back with his free hand.

This is how he sees him. _Again_. His straight and slender figure stands a little further, at the bottom of the field, near the locker room. He is hunched over his phone, but Louis sees his face distinctly thanks to the bandana that keeps his curls out of his face. Maybe Louis does not hate this bandana as much as he thinks he does. One thing is certain, however, is that for now, he probably hates Harry more than he hates Harry's bandana.

Louis continues his walk to the locker room, and— and it is different. It is different, because even though his stomach contracts, and his back shivers, Louis walks past Harry like he is nobody. He walks by him like you pass someone in a hallway, without a glance, and even though he had no expectations, Louis is disappointed.

Louis is disappointed, because Harry does not apologize. He ignores him, does not give him a look, acts as if he has not insulted Louis for no reason since the beginning of the year when he has not done anything. He does not apologize, not even after Louis told him some home truths, showed him he had done wrong. Louis _deserves_ this apology. He deserves it more than Harry deserves his. And maybe Harry is hurt by his words, or he is angry, but he still should have apologized. So maybe, _maybe_ , Louis would have apologized too, even if he had not theoretically done anything wrong. He would have apologized, because that is what polite people do. But Harry is not polite. He is anything but polite.

And as he walks past Harry, Louis promises himself one thing. He promises himself not to try again, not to look for Harry's good side anymore, because he does not have one. Harry is an asshole, sassy, selfish brat. He does not deserve anything, especially not that Louis wastes his time with him.

It was with these resentful thoughts that Louis entered the locker room, pushing the door open with his shoulder. He is silent, but pensive.

\------------------------------------

 _Tommo The Tease_ ’s party tour started on a Friday.

Liam and Louis were sitting in their living room, watching a pitiful reality show they did not even like. The show had stopped, giving way to the commercial, and Liam had stood up, turned off the TV, then left the living room, probably to go to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Louis had remained on the couch, slumped without any grace, his feet resting casually on their coffee table, his hand under his shirt, gently scratching his stomach. He looked pathetic, and he did not care.

Finally, Liam was back, focused on his phone screen like he had never been before. Louis saw his figure through the black screen of the television.

"What's new?" he asked as Liam stopped in the middle of the living room.

"Do you want to go to a party?" Liam asked back.

His smile could be heard in his voice. He must have seen how pitiful Louis was, to talk to him that way. Louis had accepted. Of course he had. He got up from the sofa grousing, had taken the time to stretch out loudly. Liam had gritted his teeth behind him, then told him to hurry to get ready.

Louis had gone to his room to find a suitable outfit. Now he was at the-said party, drinking his 5th drink per hour, as Liam dances with Maya on the dance floor. The cheerleaders had come to see them immediately after seeing them, but Louis did not have the head to play _Tommo The Tease_ , so he left the little group.

Louis ends up on a seedy couch, a red goblet with unidentifiable content in hand, and it is a funny enough reference to his early evening. _Snort_. Not so fun, when he thinks about it.

A young girl approaches him, Louis recognizes her as a junior but cannot find her name. She smiles softly at him, tries to sit on his lap. Louis crosses his legs: he casually rests his ankle on his knee, sipping his drink, ignoring the disappointed look of the young girl. He tends to forget that he is a prey, that he always was, even more so now that he broke up with Eleanor. Louis watches the young girl join a guy; he glares at him, and Louis smirks back. He would never blame himself for being attractive, it is not his fault if everyone wants him. _ ~~Everyone but the one he wants.~~_

Finally, Liam falls to his side, breathless, and stinking of sweat. Louis wants to comment on that to him, but the music is too loud, and Louis doesn't want to raise his voice, so he just stays at his place. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out with difficulty. As he moves on the couch to feel the device in his back pocket, Liam groans and pushes him away like a kid. Finally, Louis finally gets his phone; this whole fight with his jeans was pointless, the words are blurry on the screen, unreadable, and Louis cannot understand a thing of the message. He should have no doubt, he drank so much.

"Hey, isn't that Zayn over there?" Liam asks from nowhere, pointing to a corner of the room.

Louis lifts his head from his phone and directs his gaze to where his friend is pointing. Sure enough, a figure stands there, similar to Zayn's. The young man stands in this own way, leaning on one leg, but his body still bent back. He has his favorite leather jacket on his shoulders, and it highlights his long arms covered with tattoos, his slim and slender figure. He looks like a model, posing in this soiled setting.

"Do you want us to join him?" Louis asks with a smirk; he knows what he is playing.

A pause, then Liam responds, "Why not."

Louis pulls himself up from the couch, with difficulty, then picks up a drink from anyone hanging around. The young man gives him a confused look but lets him go with his goblet; Louis is hoping that there is nothing too strong or he will throw up on his friend. He follows his best friend through the crowd. He finds Zayn with his eyes: the young man draws a cigarette from behind his ear, then stretches out his hand for a lighter. Louis sneers; he does not distinguish the person who gives the object so much desired to his friend. As he walks, his vision widens, and he looks up the boy's arm. He is not surprised to see Harry. He is no longer surprised to see him everywhere he goes. That does not mean he wants to see him anyway. That does not mean he is going to _go_ see him. Louis will not see him. He has not spent the last week avoiding him to go talk to him tonight. This situation is a gaping hole and Louis has no intention of falling into it.

So Louis stops. He has got his head spinning a bit, and he has to hold on to Liam to stabilize himself before he can speak.

"Payno. U-turn." he said bluntly.

When Louis turns around, he meets Zayn's gaze. The man does not make a gesture towards him, not a movement. His expression does not change, it remains a creepy neutral. Louis knows he saw him though. Zayn understands the situation, Louis is grateful.

Without another word, Louis breaks away from the crowd, walks to the kitchen. He does not check that Liam is following him, he feels his presence behind him. Louis lost his goblet on the way (maybe he spilled it, maybe someone took it to him as he took it to some else, maybe the goblet was never there all the time, he does not know), so they head to the fridge. The light emanating from the device burns his pupils as he takes a beer. The house is so dark, despite the neon lights and the play of lights, he feels like an animal caught between the headlights of a car, blinded, lost, confused, _pathetic_.

"Harry?" Liam asks innocently; it takes a while for the student to understand what he is talking about. In the end, he does not bother to answer. It is enough. The duo finds a place against the counter, Louis leans on it dangerously, they stay silent for a minute, the music too loud in the background. A group of students _literally_ falls into the kitchen, and Louis and Liam chuckle; it is drunk and scrambled.

"Do you want to go up? I saw a window leading to the roof when we got there." Liam finally says, and the mood drops.

Louis takes a sip of his beer before nodding, motioning for Liam to open the passage. As they leave the kitchen, Louis stumbles, and Liam laughs. It must be around 2a.m., people are already starting to leave, the halls of the fraternity are more and more empty. It is easier to walk around.

Climbing up the windowsill is more difficult to do when we are drunk, our heads are spinning, and our vision is blurred. This time is no exception, and Louis falls on the other side more than anything else. Yet he studied the way Liam stepped over the ledge, carefully, even though his head turned; more proof that education is useless, you always end up screwing up whether you get involved or not.

Liam helps Louis recover from his fall; the tiles are rubbing his uncovered skin, they will probably leave red, burning marks on his skin. When he happens to sit next to his best friend, he is nauseated and his head spinning. However, he accepts the cigarette that Liam hands him, and takes a puff. It is nice, that warmth flowing through his lungs, the same feeling as alcohol, but more familiar. Louis prefers to smoke to drink, it does not give him a hangover the next day.

He sees Harry and Niall a little further out in the yard, laughing and screaming. It is hard to make out due to the fatigue, but he has learned to recognize Harry everywhere over the past month. Whether from behind, in profile, ten meters away, or right next to him, Louis always recognizes those curls, and that posture, and that voice. He blames himself for that. _So much_. Zayn is no longer by their side; he is either left the party or is doing some weird stuff with other people. The two sophomores look silly, Louis chuckles softly. The situation itself is silly. He takes a puff of his cigarette.

"What a jerk. Look at him acting like the nicest motherfucker. Fucking idiot."

Louis lets the smoke escape; it slowly flies out of his lips. He watches it go, evaporate, slowly, _surely_. It seems to shine under the light of the streetlights, it is beautiful. Louis cannot help but compare it to Harry. As obvious as it seems in the light, his crush will eventually go away too.

Liam gives him a confused look, but Louis ignores him. He probably owes him some explanations of the situation; he will eventually give them. He has the words stuck in his throat, he doesn't know why. Probably the cold. When he finally speaks, his voice sounds dry.

"He'll have got on my nerves in a month more than Eleanor in 5 years. He doesn’t worth it.

\- I think he does worth it, actually.” Liam interjected, and his hoarse voice made Louis shudder through the night. He, who had not said a word since they climbed the roof, is finally speaking, and Louis is afraid of what he is going to say. "He is different."

He was right to be afraid.

Louis does not know if it is the nicotine, or the drinks he drank, but a slight smile dawns on his lips, and he nods. Yeah, Harry is different. _Too_ different, and _so_ normal. Words fail him.

Laughter erupts below them; Harry and Niall walk towards the interior of the fraternity again, beer in hand. They cannot see them, they will never think of looking up, so Louis and Liam watch them silently, on a common accord. A group of young girls have joined them, and even from afar, even with the drinks he drank, even with the fatigue that covers his eyes, Louis sees Harry's arm wrapped around the shoulder of one of them. His smile drops and the words return, harsh ~~(for him or for Harry?).~~

"I have had enough of all of this. I'm done with him."

The silence that follows is long and cold, and after a few minutes, Louis does not wait for answers anymore. He gently taps his cigarette, watches the embers fall on the roof tiles, watches them go out.

He really loves Harry, but it is only physical. They have only been arguing since they first met. Louis does not want that; it was fun at first, like a game of cat-and-mouse, but it was just _that_. It was not even justified, not even _necessary_.

"If you say so.

\- What do you mean?"

Louis feels a beginning of anger inside of him, he tries to punch it away: anger and alcohol never sounds right.

"What I mean, Louis, is that I've never seen you like this. You've never wanted to be with someone that much, you've never had such a crush." Liam pauses, and Louis wonders if the dramatic effect is on purpose. "I'm sorry Louis, but I don't think you'll turn the page so easily."

Liam did not say anything after that. Louis neither. He knows his friend is right. He is so angry for contradicting him, for telling the facts. For showing to Louis how _interested_ he is in Harry.

When Louis leans for another puff, his gaze falls on his pale hands; his cigarette is wedged between his index and middle fingers, it burns gently with a light flame.

His hand is shaking.

Probably nicotine.

\------------------------------------

Eleanor came back to talk to him. Several times, actually. She gives him soft looks, playful smiles, runs her hand gently over his arm. The young girl has definitely forgotten he is gay.

Louis does not even pay attention to it. All he thinks about when he sees her is Harry. Her long brown hair reminds him of his chocolate curls; her large almond eyes remind him of his emerald pearls. Every time she tries something with him, he rejects her harshly, tells her to go pick up some other boys. Those around them are convinced that she cheated on him again, that is why they broke up. _How ironic_ , cannot help but think Louis, _it's me who wants another one, not her._

Eleanor is not hurt by Louis's words, because he has always done that, and maybe he would have preferred her to be. So, she would finally leave him alone, and Louis could get over her non-breakup on his own.

He gets over it in a completely normal way: through parties, alcohol, and cigarettes. He drinks, he smokes, he dances, he gets drunk until his head hurts the next day; he vomits, he regrets, and he does it again, and again, and again. It is the start of the year, the parties are numerous, and Louis has no problem getting in. Sometimes with Liam, sometimes without him, he walks through the doors of fraternity house, bourgeois houses, pool houses, with his playful smile and his bottles. _Tommo The Tease_ always brings bottles. His life is relatively the same as it was before he met Harry, except this time he does not have a fake girlfriend who sticks with him.

His phone rings next to his head, and fates it from his thoughts. He is lying in his bed, a just had to turn his head to see his phone. A message from Liam.

**party at calum tonight, u coming?**

Louis does not think twice. The answer is obvious, both to Louis and to Liam.

**ofc payno, id never miss that and you know it**

It is off again for another masquerade, which he will regret having happened, but which he will do over and over again.

\------------------------------------

Louis no longer pays attention to where he is walking as he walks through the crowd. He lost Liam a while ago and is not even trying to find him again. People push him without recognizing him: he hates when people are too drunk to realize who he is. He's _Tommo The Tease_ , the captain of the football team, one of the best players, he deserves respect. The music is too loud for him to yell at them, so he just pushes them away with force, releasing insults in the process. His drink dangles dangerously in his red cup, and Louis is already groaning at the thought of having to go get another.

Then misfortune happens. Louis stumbles, and his glass of beer empties onto someone's t-shirt. He does not know if he is upset because his glass did spill, or because he is going to have to apologize to someone who will probably try to fight with him.

Nothing of this happens. The rising voice is hoarse and _familiar_ , but it is also _anything_ but angry. It is even sweet, like a melody, and Louis melts.

"It's okay, Tomlinson. It's just a shirt."

Louis freezes and his heart runs. Harry has never spoken to him like that, in such a calm tone, and he is losing his mind. Hell, Harry never _looked_ at him that way. So sweet, almost tender. Louis' heart falters, he no longer knows how to breathe. He decides to blame it on the alcohol, for his own health.

"Sorry? You really don't blame me? Did you take a hit on the head, Curly? "

Louis blames himself immediately after the words leave his mouth. They fought because Harry was being rude for no reason, and there he was, doing the exact same thing when he is the one in fault. He panics, expects rejection. After that, he will be the only reason why this ended badly: Harry held out like a pole to him to settle their dispute, and Louis rejected him without even considering the chance he had been waiting for. And why did he have to use that stupid nickname? Harry said he hated it, when they were still arguing; Louis only makes his case worse, and he is the only one to blame for it.

Instead, Harry laughs.

Harry laughs, and Louis would never believe his heart could beat so fast.

It is light, a bit messy from the alcohol, but he laughs softly, and Louis's stomach twists, and his legs seem to buckle under him, and his green eyes find their way to the other boy, and—

And he wants to kiss Harry.

He wants to kiss Harry, in those dull lights, no matter his shirt is stained, or his hair falls in his face, because Louis has never found him as handsome as he is now, when he is himself.

Harry's laughter sounds like a kiss on the forehead, a caress on the cheek, a ray of sunshine in the rain. It is heartwarming, and Louis is more _addicted_ than he ever was.

He does not want to stop listening to her laugh, no matter how lightly it is. A thousand of butterflies start to fly in his stomach and he cannot prevent himself to smile, and— and shit. Louis is fucked up. Louis is _so_ fucked up.

When Harry finally calms down, and meets Louis' surprised gaze, he bursts out laughing again, and it is _so_ real. He laughed as if what Louis just said was the funniest thing he had ever heard. His friends are confused by his side, but he does not even seem to notice them; Louis feels like he is in a secret with him for a moment, just the two of them, and it warms his whole body. Harry only laughs for him, thanks to him, and Louis has never been so proud.

It is the most beautiful thing he is ever seen. The dimples on his cheeks, the way his eyes squint, the way he puts his hand on his stomach, it is all so real, and so adorable. Louis feels like he is falling as Harry gently laughs next to him.

Liam was right, Louis could not get over it so easily; he just needs a look from the boy to lose all his old resolutions. He just needs a laugh, a smile, to make him realize that he could never stay away from Harry.

So, instead to promise to not try again with Harry, he vows to keep fighting for this boy, as much as it takes.

He probably worth it, at the end of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry finally found some common ground, even if they had to faced some difficulties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter talks about someone's death, even if nothing is explicitly told, but the "discovery" of the character's death kind of helps Harry and Louis to get closer; i wanted to clear that i dont consider death as a random event and dont use it for a random storyline, it is in the story but im not disrespecting anyone and hope that you can understand that.  
> //  
> english isnt my mother language so please be indulgent, thanks :)

Days have passed, the month of October has arrived. It is strange that it has only been a month, Louis feels like he started his senior year weeks ago. Classes and practices take his time, and Harry gives him grief.

He told Liam about it, by the way, that he was _not_ done with Harry. Right after the party, as they each entered their rooms, exhausted, Louis turned to Liam. Their eyes had met, tired, and the words had come out without his being able to hold them back:

“Harry has a wonderful laugh." he had said.

Just that, nothing else. Liam had smiled softly at him, a tender but also teasing smile. _Told ya_ , said the gleam in his eyes. Louis huffed softly, the closest thing to a laugh he could do while being so tired, and walked into his room. Liam's door closed within seconds as well, and they had fallen into a heavy sleep, punctuated with brown curls and red lips for Louis, and dark short hair and high brown eyes for Liam.

When he woke up, Louis had thought about all this, with a clear head. He blamed himself for changing sides so quickly, besides proving Liam he was right, then he had seen Harry's smile again, his pretty dimples and his narrowed eyes, and how could he blame himself? Anyone else would have succumbed, Louis was just following logic. And also, honestly, he would rather fight now and see if it were really going to lead to something than just doing nothing and wasting time denying the attraction. Because it was just an attraction.

Right?

\------------------------------------

"Your brother, he's in a fraternity, right?"

Louis's voice sounds hoarse as he asks the question, having been silent for far too long. Eleanor frowns, turning her head to the young man; she was not to expect such a question, which came out of nowhere after long minutes of silence.

Louis does not pay attention to the confused look that the young girl gives him, he continues to stare at the ground while smoking his cigarette. They are both in the bleachers of the football stadium, although neither team is training. Honestly, Louis did not get it when he saw Eleanor arrive, coming in rolling her hips, her purse swinging from her arm. As much as he wants to be alone for a while, he did not send her out, especially since she is like a ticket to the weird maze that Harry is.

Very quickly, as Louis continues to look into the distance, Eleanor gives up the idea of meeting his gaze, and copies his position.

" _Half_ -brother, please" the girl finally responds, and Louis rolls his eyes in exasperation, "and yes, he's in a fraternity. _Sigma Phi Upsilon_ or something like that. A well-cliché name you know."

Even if he does not show it, Louis is impressed; _Sigma Phi Upsilon_ , also known as _SigUp_ , is one of the best-known fraternities on campus known for their wacky parties and extremely popular members. It was named after the incredibly famous _Sigma Phi Epsilon_ fraternity established in 1901. It is strange to hear that Harry is there; he is never seen him there before, although Louis is used to going to their parties: Nick Grimshaw is a member and Louis quite likes him as a guy.

"How long has he been there? I don’t remember seeing him there.

\- He joined it this year. Freshman cannot be a member of a fraternity."

Eleanor does not note the number of questions Louis asks; if she had, he would not have been hiding the truth from her though (and by truth he meant the fact that he really wants to kiss her brother and run his hand through his curls and stroke his cheek and— in short, that did not matter because she did not ask any questions). Instead, the young girl leans in to take a puff of Louis' cigarette, seductive. She looks him straight in the eye as she does this, makes sure to put the cigarette on the edges of her red lips, and Louis looks at her coldly. He does not even try to be nice anymore, her attempts to get him back are starting to annoy him and he wants to yell in her face that he is gay (although she is supposed to already know it).

The young girl gently sighs the smoke, her gaze still fixed on Louis'. She seems to understand that it is not doing anything to him, as she raises an eyebrow, before turning her head towards the field with a sigh. Louis watches her run her tongue over her teeth, looking in exasperation at the field. The sassy, selfish Eleanor is back, with her harsh words and superior air.

"If you want to see him that much, for some silly reasons, you just have to go see him at his fraternity. He spends his spare time playing childish video games and eating pizza, a real moron. At least he does not hang around on my paws all day, I just have to put up with him on Sundays only, during our parents' stupid family meals."

Louis finally lets out a smile, as Eleanor speaks and speaks again, revealing all the information he needs. This is one of the only qualities of the young girl, the fact that she is not embarrassed to tell everyone about her life.

Eleanor spots the smirk on Louis' face, and beams again, probably sure it is for her. If only, it would have been easier. But no, she is wrong, that smile is not for her, has not been for a long time, probably never will be again. Louis only sees emerald eyes in his mind.

A telephone ringing takes them from their thoughts; Louis looks down at Eleanor's hands, which are pulling her phone from her pocket. Her fingernails are painted a pale pink, and Louis remembers all the times she had asked him to paint them for her. Louis had always refused, the smell of varnish seeping into his head.

The girl picks up the call, bringing her phone to her ear, brushing back her hair with a nod. From a purely objective point of view, it is beautiful.

Louis does not listen to the discussion, he does not give a damn about Eleanor; he just stares at the field, puffing his cigarette in silence. He has learned a lot in that half hour, he has to use it now. Does he have something planned for Sunday? He thinks he does not, he is not sure. He could ask Liam, but he is in marketing (aka his favorite class) and he will not get a response until the end of the conference. He does not have time to wait that long though.

"Well, I have to go Loulou, see you later" the young girl says as she put her phone back in her pocket.

_Loulou_. Louis hates the nickname, but he does not say anything, just wincing as she walks away, which the young girl does after realizing she would not get an answer. Sure enough, Louis is just nodding his head gently. He reflects, he hurries to make a choice. What does he even risk? It is not like his life is on the line.

Meanwhile, Eleanor turns around, begins to walk down the stands, and Louis finally makes his decision.

"Hey Eleanor" he says, without shouting. Why shout when he knows Eleanor's attention is always on him, no matter the time and the situation?

Louis smiles slightly as the girl turns around, her long hair flying around her. She raises an eyebrow, urging him to speak, although he knows she would stay as long as he wanted.

He turns his head towards her, transforms his amused smile into a _Tommo The Tease_ TM smile just for the image, and asks his question:

"Can I come and eat at your place on Sunday? Meet the Calder family, you know?" he asks innocently, and Eleanor's face seems to light up. Of course it does.

The young girl regains her confidence, stands up, resumes this position of confidence, her hand on her hip, her eyes haughty. She pretends to think, and Louis suppresses a smile.

"It would be amazing, Louis. Dress properly, though, these family dinners are especially important to us" she responds with a sneer, as she throws her hair back with a wave.

Eleanor regains her superior air as she left for good, rolling her hips gently. Louis watches her return to the main building, devious and vicious, before returning his attention to the pitch again.

Now that he has a way to see Harry, he has to find a way to _talk_ to him.

\------------------------------------

Louis does not know exactly when he started to smoke that much. He thinks it started after the incident, but sometimes he remembers those long, loud nights, and he wonders if it had not started long before. He has not been able to get rid of it since, even after moving in with Liam, he still smokes so much. It must be said that meeting Zayn did not help to stop. He does not blame him, why would he? He is the one who chose his friends, his entourage. Honestly, he is glad he found a friend to smoke with in between classes, to let the pressure go.

He still cherishes those moments of smoking alone, though. He enjoys those nights spent at his bedroom window, watching the smoke fly up to the black sky, moonbeams escaping from the clouds and reflecting the shadows of the trees on the walls of his bedroom; yes, these nights are definitely the best.

It is also during these times that he is most sincere with himself. So, in the silence of his room, Louis thinks about tomorrow.

\------------------------------------

Louis comes down the stairs quickly, oblivious to the sound of his heels on the steps. He is supposed to be at the Calder's in 15 minutes, and really doesn't know if he'll be on time. Liam, sat in front of the TV, his feet casually resting on the table in front of him, not even complaining about the noise, too focused in the stupid show on TV. It is without looking away from the screen that he speaks:

"Are you coming to Calvin's party tonight? There will be the guys of the team, and we will be playing FIFA while eating pizza."

Oh, so there was something going on tonight. Too bad, he has to cancel.

"Nah, I already have something planned." Louis answers quickly.

He leans forward, grabs his vans and puts them on easily. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Liam straighten up, and turn his head towards him. His arms are no longer thrown parallel to the side of the file, he is half turned towards his friend with curiosity.

"Wait, did I hear that? You aren’t coming to Calvin's party? When he has FIFA _and_ pizza?"

Liam's mean smile does not fool him, and Louis rolls his eyes with a sneer. He is not _that_ obsessed with FIFA.

"No, I'm not going to Calvin's party although he has FIFA and pizza."

Louis's tone is playful, and he gives Liam an exasperated look. Liam squints as he watches his friend pull on his jacket. He seems to be analyzing the situation, although Louis is sure he has it all figured out already; it is funny.

"You’re going to see Harry, right?"

Ah, he was right: Liam had it all figured out. The latter does not even wait for an answer: he leans more over the sofa, fixing Louis with his dark and amused gaze.

"You really like him huh?" he asks, and his voice is playful.

Liam asks the question as if he had not given him a speech a few days ago about how he did not believe Louis capable of moving on. Louis does not comment on that though, just chuckles softly; he sighs with a slight smile, considering his words.

"Yeah, you can say that."

He wishes. He thought about it the day before, when he was alone and calm, and he realized that there was so much more that could be said than that, but Louis did not have time for that. So, he leaves the apartment, slams the door behind him, ignoring Liam's laughter. _What an idiot_ , he thinks as he gets into his car, and it is full of sweetness.

\------------------------------------

"Uh excuse me, where is the bathroom?" Louis asks as Mr. Calder pours himself another drink.

The man on the other side of the coffee table laughed softly; it is nothing mean, void of mockery, just a slight amusement that Louis understands.

Louis arrived a quarter of an hour ago, and Eleanor's parents greeted him kindly. As surprising as it was from him, he had not been late, and was now having a drink with Mr. Calder. No traces of Harry _yet_. Eleanor and her stepmother Anne left for the kitchen, the woman needing help there. Louis didn't expect to be alone with his 'ex's dad so early during dinner and is worried about having to talk about the young girl when all he has in mind is a young man. There is a kind of danger in this meal, though, which thrills Louis' stomach; a funny feeling, exhilaration, just to _see_ Harry and _talk_ to him when everyone expects him to be there for Eleanor.

"Upstairs to the right, behind the hallway door. Easy to find, you won't normally have any difficulty getting there." Philip Calder finally answers, and Louis smiles back at him before getting up from his seat.

Eleanor and her mother are laughing softly from the kitchen as Louis walks past; although the house looks relatively new, the stairs creak under his feet. Everything looks so normal, like there is no one missing from the board, and Louis thinks for a second that Harry might not be there, just before he runs into him at the corner of the hall.

Even though Harry is younger, and seems more physically _fragile_ , he is still a growing 19-year-old boy, and Louis always forgets that. The shock is more violent than he would have thought, and he can only rely on his balance not to stumble.

"Tomlinson?" the boy asks in a confused voice, and when Louis looks up, he is amazed at what he sees.

Harry is in front of him, all his barriers down, his brow furrowed in confusion and his head tilted slightly. His curls are still held in place by that stupid bandana and Louis just wants to take it off, see his curls fallen over his face, and run his hands through them gently, and pull slowly— His stomach twists at the picture, but in a strangely pleasant way. It was only a word, a glint in the eye, but never has Harry seemed so accessible. Until the mirage breaks:

"Apologize instead of staring at me like a whiting. Didn't your mother teach you politeness?"

Harry's voice is cold, and Louis freezes under the other boy's hard gaze.

Shit. The words hit a lot harder than they were meant to.

Louis thought he had gotten used to it over time; he thought he had turned the page, really; but at these words his heart quickens and his hands clench. He does not know what to say, he does not know what to answer. He refuses to let Harry have the upper hand, he refuses to be like that in front of Harry, _he refuses to be like that at all_ , but the words do not come, and his throat tightens, and Louis feels like he is falling, without have anything to hold on to, and Harry looks at him again, with that cold stare, and judges him, and stares at him, and Louis is _lost_.

Finally, Eleanor seems to be calling their names downstairs, and it pulls Louis out of his muddled, confused thoughts. Harry is staring at him, his brow furrowed, and even though he is gorgeous like that, Louis cannot stand in front of him. He whispers a simple 'sorry' before heading back down the hall.

He did not feel Harry's confused look behind his back, because Harry was already gone too.

\------------------------------------

"So Louis, tell me about your family," exclaims Ms. Anne Calder, and Louis smiles softly.

Dinner started (finally!!) and obviously the conversation turned to Louis. It is okay, it is not a drama, Louis can answer a few questions about himself. It is if they asked him about his relationship with Eleanor that there would be a problem.

"Well, I have a lot of siblings. 5 sisters, and 1 brother to be exact. I am the oldest." he responds politely, giving the information that the parents like.

"Oh really? It is really lovely; family dinners must be amazing! Maybe I should have had more kids, it would have been livelier." the young woman says with a laugh, and Louis smiles politely as Harry and Eleanor roll their eyes.

"Yeah, our family dinners are crazy, but I still love spending time with them. I have not seen them for a while though. I moved in with a friend when I entered college, it was easier."

The exchange lasts a few more minutes, during which Anne asks him several questions about his siblings, questions which Louis gladly answers. He only has Mrs. Calder's attention on him, but he is not complaining about it, he is not talking about his family to get Harry's attention but because he likes to talk about them.

"And your parents? What do they do in life?" Anne finally asks, and even though Louis was expecting this question, it sounds weird to his ears.

"Mom, stop." Eleanor suddenly whispers. It is not much, but Louis is grateful.

Even Anne does not seem to understand, and objects by saying that she is just interested in Louis's life, this gives the young man enough time to form his response, calmly.

"Uhm, my mother died a few years ago. And I have no contact with my biological father." he finally says, proud of his calm voice, and he sees Harry freeze out of the corner of his eye.

Then he feels his gaze on him. For the first time, probably, Harry is looking at him. For real. He has his gorgeous green eyes set on his face. Louis feels it, it is like a gentle burn on his skin, it is so _intense_. When he dares to glance at the young man, he finds him with wide eyes in surprise, and if it were not for this, Louis would have leaned down to kiss his parted lips.

"Oh Louis, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have asked…" Anne interjected, after what seemed to last for hours of silence.

Louis looked away from Harry's adorable face to give the woman in front of him a polite smile.

"It's okay, you couldn't have known."

And he is right, Anne could not know, just like Harry could not. Louis does not blame him, he does not blame anyone because nobody can guess, but he is grateful for the apologies. Even though the wound is still open, it is less gaping than before, and Louis can talk about his mother calmly. He will still feel that sadness, of course, that he has lost one of the dearest people in his life, the _most_ _beautiful_ person in his life, but all the rage of the event has left him. He is fine now. He really is.

After that, the meal ends normally, without discomfort. Louis sometimes feels Harry's deep gaze on him, and appreciates this gentle warmth, this timid attention. It is not a lot, but it is enough.

\------------------------------------

"Hey! Hold on!"

Louis freezes at his voice, because it is soft and clear, and he is not used to it. It takes a moment for him to turn around, to fix his blue eyes into Harry's green ones. It is strange, that glow there is. The young boy seems torn between two ideas; he seems ready to give up and turn around, go home without another word. Louis likes to see him like that. It is cute. If only he could take that stupid bandana off him and run his hand through his hair…

Finally, Harry does not run away; instead, he takes a step forward, shyly playing with his fingers, and speaks.

"I wanted to apologize. For later on. It’s not okay, what I said, I'm sorry. Plus, it was my fault, you didn't know the house, you couldn't pay attention. I am sorry. I hope you forgive me."

Even though such apologies were not necessary, Louis appreciates them. He also enjoys the sight that awaits him, sweet and innocent. Harry looks so _vulnerable_ right there in front of him, simply asking for forgiveness. For a second, Louis thinks of hugging him. Instead, he smirks at the other boy, returning to his confident gaze.

"I forgive you. But you didn't have to make a big deal out of it, I've already moved on, _Harry_."

Louis relishes the feel of the name on his lips, the way the r's roll on his tongue. It is not the first time he says Harry's name, but it's different when he talks to him.

"Shut up, fucking idiot" then, after a short pause: "Have a safe trip home, _Louis_."

Harry gives him a smile, a real one, before heading back inside, not waiting for a response.

Good, because Louis could not have given any.

He is way too focused on the way his name sounds in Harry's mouth. How the 'l' seemed to slip between his lips, the way his lips curled into a smile at the end. Harry knows what he did, it is sure, he would not have said it that way otherwise. Right? Louis really hopes he did it on purpose, and that he will not do it again, because Louis could not survive it. His own name sounds so good in this boy's mouth.

That evening, Louis came home with a smile on his face. He leaves happy the Calder’s house, not only because he has proof that Harry is not just a without emotions kid who doesn't give a damn about hurting people, but also because for the first time Harry called him Louis. Not _Tomlinson_ , not _stupid_ , not even _Tommo_ , but indeed _Louis_.

It is probably the most beautiful melody he is ever heard.

He has found the Harry he wants to fight for.

\------------------------------------

The next time Louis runs into Harry, it is out of the locker room, after practice. His hair is wet from his shower, and his body is exhausted from the effort; he is still in that comfort zone you feel after a hot shower: your limbs are numb, your eyes are heavy, and you just want to lie down and sleep. He has an amused smile on his face as his teammates joke around, most still in the showers, others changing in the locker rooms, some even already outside. The atmosphere is brotherly and heartwarming, and it is one of those days that Louis loves.

"Okay you’re all very funny" exclaims Louis, as he leans back against the swinging door of the building, "but I’ll have to close the locker room soon, so it would be nice if you would move your ass faster, lads!"

Yells follow his declaration, laughter, exclamations. He chuckles softly, pushes the swinging door with his back to exit the building, greet his comrades already prepared. It is not one of the team's footballers he finds outside, though, but a boy with brown curls and emerald eyes.

Louis freezes, standing there against the door. The cold wind makes his still wet body shiver; he obstructs the passage for those who want to go out, but this is the least of his worries: Louis is hypnotized.

Even under the stale light of the old streetlights, Harry looks stunning. It gives him a strange appearance, a special glow. As if the lack of light made his eyes shine more, outlined the contours of his soft face more.

Harry do not say anything. It is silent, _too_ silent.

They exchange a look. It is embarrassing.

The tension is so palpable it could be cut with a knife. Louis does not know if it is a matter of pride that the scene is so awkward, or if it is just because it is them. He does not really know how to act. He does not know if they have definitely passed a milestone, given their last words, or if they need to get back to their constant arguments. _~~(Honestly, Louis would prefer the first option).~~_

Then finally, the silence is too heavy, and Louis speaks:

"Hi."

Harry's eyes light up, as if he did not expect him to address him. It takes a moment to answer:

"Hello."

Then silence envelops them both. Again. It is so embarrassing; Louis wants to disappear.

Fortunately, Niall is there to save them.

"Hold your ass Haz, I don't have all the time!" Niall shouts, a little further. He does not even look at them, seems too busy with his phone. Louis is not complaining.

Harry rolls his eyes with a smile, and the mixture of exasperation and amusement on his face is magnificent. Right after, he plants his emerald gaze in Louis' azure, as if to include him in the confidence, laughing with him at Niall's rushed attitude, and Louis does not know what to do, how to act, if he is supposed to say something or not. He did not have time to answer anything, though, as Harry spoke again:

"We're having a Halloween party with the other guys from _SigUp_. You can come if you want."

He cannot tell if Harry's gaze is playful or soft, but it obviously burns his stomach a lot.

"Oh yeah?" is all he can answer.

He feels stupid, helpless by the mere glance of a sophomore. It amuses Harry, though, and the smile that grows on his face can forgive everything.

"Yeah." he says with a slight sneer, "You will probably hear about it, Nick was planning on inviting you, but there you go, I'm telling you anyway."

Harry smiles at him, like he's waiting for Louis to confirm, like he's waiting for Louis to say, _'Yes, you did well to tell me. That's nice._ ' Louis gives him this confirmation by smiling back at him, a polite and totally platonic smile.

"Okay." he responds gently, in a mature manner, because he feels like he is facing a shy child, and he does not want to ruin that image with false smugness.

They remain a new moment in silence. No one seems to want to strike up a conversation again, but eventually Harry does, rocking from one foot to the other casually.

" So?

\- So what?"

Louis's stomach turns as Harry raises his eyebrows with a smile; it is like he is mocking the question, but without any meanness, and Louis thinks ( ~~believes that~~ ) they have definitely passed that point of insults and unnecessary arguing.

"You will come?"

Louis takes a moment to admire Harry. His brown curls are still held back by that stupid bandana that Louis hates, but it gives off his sweet face. He does not smile but a gleam shines in his eyes. A glimmer of hope or amusement, Louis could not name it, but it gently warms his chest, makes him smile. He could spend hours admiring Harry's simple stifling beauty, but Harry seems to be waiting for a response, and Louis cannot keep him waiting forever.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll come."

Louis said so casually, though his heart stuttered. Harry stares at him for a moment, then smiles softly. He nods once, continues to look at the other boy, but does not move; nods a second time, still staring at Louis.

Unlike a few minutes ago, the mood is different. The situation is the same, they both look at each other silently, straight up like peaks, but that is okay. No, it is not embarrassing, it is _timeless_.

Harry does not seem to intend to move, he just stands there staring at Louis, and it is deep, _spellbinding_.

As much as Louis enjoys the moment (he could spend hours like this, just staring at Harry, observing his curls, mentally describing the color of his eyes), he has responsibilities, and he will never be able to realize them if he stays early to observe ~~the love of his life~~ the younger boy.

"Do you plan to spend the day here?" he asks with a laugh.

He laughs more as Harry's eyes widen, and his cheeks lightly redden. It is _adorable_. He looks away, laughs shyly, then returns his attention to Louis, calmer.

"Yeah." (A slight stress on realizing his words)" I mean, no. Yeah, I'm gonna go. Bye. See you. Goodbye."

Another shy laugh, an awkward wave of the hand, and Harry finally leaves. He turns and crosses the field to catch up with Niall quickly, as if not to sink deeper into adorable stuttering. Without knowing it, he leaves behind a tender and distraught Louis.

_A simple attraction._

\------------------------------------

"Oh by the way, we're going to _Sigma Phi Upsilon's_ party for Halloween."

That is the first thing he says to Liam that night as they return to the apartment. He had spent the ride thinking about Harry's words, and Harry's smile, and Harry as a whole, so much so that he forgot to tell Liam about the party. Now all he can think of is Harry _wanting_ him at the party.

Liam nods softly as he walks into the living room. Louis follows him, they both throw their gym bags on the floor with a sigh. It has been a long, hard day, and Louis just wants to _sleep_.

"Isn't that Harry's fraternity?" Liam asks casually as he drops onto the sofa. The springs creak, and Louis grimaces.

It only takes one look at Liam's tired gaze to know that this is a real question, not a tease.

"Yes, it is."

Louis did not want to smile when he answered. _Really_ , he tried to keep a neutral face, even tried to make that smile look mean, but it was stronger than him. It is not Louis's fault that just at the mention of Harry's name, something in his stomach twists _pleasantly_ enough to make him smile. Luckily, Liam did not see anything, or Louis should have explained the silly smile on his face.

"What are you going to dress up as?" Liam suddenly asks, startling Louis slightly.

The young man took a moment to think. Honestly, he had not thought about it, not for a second. He had been celebrating Halloween with Eleanor as a girlfriend for so long, just putting on whatever couple costume she chose for them; having a choice is new, he is no longer used to thinking about it.

"No ideas. You?" he answers with a sigh, playing with the cords of his joggers.

Liam shrugs. He is still looking at the television screen, which he has turned on in the meantime; Louis would tell him to stop spending his time in front of the TV, but he does the same.

"I've been thinking about Jack Sparrow but I'm not sure yet."

Louis nods, even though Liam does not see him. It is not like he is waiting for an answer.

Finally, he spends the evening like this, slumped on the sofa. Between two shows, they order pizzas, and this is delivered by a pretty dark boy with dark skin. Louis does not even take the time to admire him, Harry's smile still on his mind. He tips the delivery guy though, with a quick smile.

After enjoying their pizzas, the two students fall asleep on the sofa, exhausted but full. A children's movie plays on screen as they fall asleep, and it smoothly gets Louis' creative mind going. He might have found a costume, finally.

\------------------------------------

The evening is as Louis imagined it. It is loud, chaotic, and absurd. The party started barely an hour ago, but the house is already crowded, and two or three students are already throwing up on the lawn. The sign _ΣΦΥ_ sits proudly above the door, and Louis does not know if it was the members or the guests who threw them, but orange and black garlands are tangled in the branches of the trees and hung on the windowsills. Louis is not surprised at the disaster he sees, _SigUp_ parties are always crazy: the Halloween vibe and the crazy variety of costumes only accentuate this disparate effect.

When they walk through the door (Louis, Liam, and Maya, as Liam and Maya seem to have grown closer as the days go by to the point of going to parties together) all eyes are on them. Louis humbly assumes it is more because of his colorful costume than Liam and Maya's matching disguises; while the "couple" (they are not yet a couple, but Louis is afraid that something is going on between them) is only disguised as Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann Louis has opted for a high-in-colors Peter Pan disguise : his tee-shirt is a flashy apple green to which he added some glitters that glow in the neon light, and the hat simply resting on his messy hair is approached in a pretty red feather. He looks like a kid, yes, but a kid having fun. Next to him, everyone else's costumes are shabby, do not shine as bright as his; Louis is not ashamed, he likes to be the center of attention, even more now than it has nothing to do with his relationship with Eleanor.

Louis loses Liam and Maya quickly, but finds Zayn almost immediately, so it is not that bad. Unsurprisingly, the young man wears a Batman disguise; a black cape is falling down to his calves, while his body is dressed in an all-black version of the Batman costume. He does not wear the mask though, but Louis assumes he did the full disguise thing early in the evening as he holds his mask in his hand. The young man is leaning against the bar, back from the other students as he often is, his back arched back as he watches the crowd.

"Malik! You’re okay?" Louis exclaims as he stands beside him, all smiles.

He sees the young man raise his eyebrows at the sight of his suit but makes no remark. He is more amused than surprised.

"Yep I'm fine. And you? How's _Tommo_?"

Zayn's voice is playful, as it is every time he comes up with Louis’ nickname. It does not really make sense these days, as Louis does not act like the perfect boyfriend and the straightest footballers anymore; he is the way he is, and probably sends a lot more people out. It is good this way, it is _better_.

"I'm okay, thanks for asking." he responds with a smile, raising his nearly empty glass. It is his second of the night, not much compared to usual. Louis will make up for it later.

"So it’s going well?" Zayn then says for no apparent reason.

Louis frowns as Zayn looks at him calmly. He does not see what he means, until he notices the glint in his eyes, the corner of his upturned lips. So, he sighs loudly, pushing Zayn aside, rolling his eyes.

"You’re really stupid, you know? But yes. I think. I’m not sure where I am. Where _we_ are."

That is right, he does not know where they are. It is weird because even though their last interactions were fairly good, they did not seem to get that close. At least he was able to avoid a temper tantrum from the younger one.

"I understand. He is complicated." Zayn pauses as a group of students walk past; Louis sees him move back further against the bar, so as not to ~~disturb~~ touch anyone. "Give him some time, it'll work out. I mean, if you want. You can also give up. No one will blame you _– him, maybe, but who cares?—_ Do whatever you want, honestly. What you think good for you. What _is_ good for you."

Zayn's gaze is grave, although calm. It is no different than usual, but as Louis is personally concerned, it is strange. It stirs his stomach.

After that, they do not talk much anymore. Despite the alcohol in their veins, they remain silent, not wanting to wear out their voices screaming over the music. They have a lot to say; however, Louis wants to ask so many questions. Since he knows he will not get an answer, he keeps his mouth shut.

Then Zayn nudges him in the ribs, and Louis turns his head. The young man's lips move, but he hears nothing, so he leans forward: enough for Zayn to repeat what he said.

"Shall we join Liam?"

The question surprises Louis, who pulls his head back, stares at Zayn with round eyes. Zayn, him, looks again at a point in the distance, in the dancing crowd. Alcohol should make him more open. Louis is feeling a little bad.

"Yes, why not." he replies though, because Zayn knows what is going on, knows what he _is_ doing, and he is far from being a fool. If he thinks he is managing, then Louis believes him.

As Zayn sits up and begins to put his mask back on his head, Louis turns around for a moment to grab a beer from the counter and fill his now empty glass.

The two students manage to avoid the crowds easily by walking along the walls; Zayn would never have agreed to cross the living room that served as the dance floor, so they go through the hallway instead. Louis is at the head of the march, but even if the trip is not that long, he turns around a few times to make sure that Zayn is still following him, does not get lost or has been removed for alcohol games or the like (the young man always manages to disappear in some way, it is almost scary).

Then everything is happening quickly. He sees brown curls, pale skin, emerald eyes, and red lips, then a shock pulls him back, and his glass spills on him.

His t-shirt sticks to his chest, the sensation makes him want to vomit; the liquid is cold on his skin, it tucks in his stomach as if to prevent the soaked clothes from touching his body further. He serves the jaw, shakes his hands to make the last drops of beer fly from his fingers. When he looks up, Harry looks at him with amusement. The white shirt he is wearing is not stained, and neither is the blue jacket he is wearing over it; Louis does not know what he is supposed to be disguised as, but he cannot ask the question, Harry speaking at the same time Louis opens his mouth:

"Oh sorry, I didn't see you."

Harry's gaze is playful and smirk, and Louis closes his mouth slowly. He arches his eyebrows, looks down at his now sticky and dirty green Peter Pan costume, then returns his attention to the boy next to him. _(He only sees him, he has already forgotten Zayn by their side, or the crowd around them)._

"You didn’t see me?" Louis repeats, an arched eyebrow.

Harry chuckles softly, as the young man continues to stare at him. How can he not have seen him when Louis is literally a green spot in the background? Then Louis understands: Harry is mocking him. Gentle, of course, given the soft glow in his eyes, but he is kidding, for sure. Louis does not want to think about the idea that _maybe_ he ran into him on purpose to talk to him. No, he does not want to think about it, cannot let himself think about it, so he starts talking again, keeps his thoughts from wandering.

"I'm fucking gonna strangle you."

It came out on its own. Louis wanted to answer so badly that he said the first thing that came to his mind. He instantly regrets it. Even though he said it more or less teasingly, with a playful smile, he does not think Harry will take it well. They were finally on the road to friendship _~~(Louis wants a lot more though)~~_ , and now Louis is ruining everything with insults. On the other hand, Harry is the one who started it, he cannot blame Louis for continuing.

As Louis expects the silent treatment, the corners of Harry's lips quirk, and he responds with a sneer: "Can you even reach my neck?"

Louis freezes. He had forgotten that Harry's laugh was so beautiful. It is light, but so soft. It is adorable. _Harry is adorable_ , Louis thinks, without being able to stop thinking. He does not know what to say, he does not know what to say, and it is even worse to have Harry's mean look and playful smile. Damn, have his curls always looked so soft? Louis wants so badly to run his hand through his hair—

"You're going to catch a cold if you walk around in a soaked t-shirt." Zayn suddenly declares, startling Louis, but just catching Harry's now calm gaze. "Maybe you can get him a spare t-shirt?" this part is addressed to the cute curly young man.

It is said casually, and Louis vows to idolize him until the end of his days. This guy is _awesome_. Even though the young man spoke calmly, without straining his voice, Harry seems to have heard him anyway, as he nods softly, his gaze on Louis again. It is deeper, there is no more teasing in it, and Louis shivers.

"Yeah, you’re right." Harry simply responds before grabbing Louis's wrist and pulling him with him to the fraternity floor. Louis gives Zayn one last look, a silent thank you, as he lets Harry take him upstairs. He hopes the guy will not get lost.

It is hard to climb stairs while being pulled by the arm, because the person holding you walks faster, is ahead. Louis stumbles down the stairs, his wrist still tightly clenched in Harry's pale hand. The latter seems almost in a hurry. Louis does not want to have misconceptions, so he almost shoves that thought away.

Quickly, they reach the upper floor where Harry's bedroom is located. The music can be heard less already, and the hallways are less crowded, so Louis assumes they are on the third floor, but he honestly has not paid attention, far too focused on the warmth of Harry's skin heath against his, and they could still be on the second.

The first thing that strikes him when he walks through the bedroom door is the stark contrast to what he had imagined. Whenever he had imagined Harry's secret lair ( _his room, of course, nothing else_ ), he had imagined it as a _real_ fratboy's room, with posters of sportsmen on the walls, clothes on the floor, a messy desk, and a collection of snapbacks on a coat rack; he never would have imagined Harry's bedroom like _this_ , with pretty string lights on the walls, undamaged furniture to _put_ his clothes _away_ , a tidy desk, and a guitar just sitting in the corner. It is unreal; only the packet of handkerchiefs on his table and the defect bed matched the image he had of it. It all adds up to a calm and relaxed vibe to the room, and Louis realizes he does _not_ know Harry that much. Even at all.

"You play in which team?" asks Louis, already to prevent his thoughts from going any further, but also because even he, who is not in a fraternity, has posters of sportsmen in his room, and to know that Harry does not have one is strange.

Louis starts to visit the room, tries to understand more about the boy but in a low-key way.

Harry turns to the boy and frowns:

"What? "

The young man watches Louis go through the books in his library but does not say anything to him, so while answering he continues to observe some trinkets, to look at the furniture.

"What sports team do you play on?" Louis notices that Harry is still confused, so he continues, "Every second year has to join a club, right? Niall joined the soccer team, how about you? Which team did you join?"

Knocks on the door startle them, and they both turn their heads towards the noises. The door moves but does not open, Harry must have locked it. Louis is grateful to him.

When he returns his attention to the other boy, the latter is already staring at him, his green eyes watching Louis. He seems to be thinking about an answer, and Louis wonders what is so complicated about his question.

"None. I do not play sport." he finally says in a monotonous voice, before heading back to the closet for some clothes.

What took Harry so long to find a simple t-shirt? Louis does not know, but he is not going to complain. Instead, he chuckles. He does not believe for a second what Harry said. A fratboy who does not play sports? Impossible. All fratboys play sports, literally that is their trademark.

"I don’t think so. You can tell me you know? Whether you do track and field or swim, I don't care."

So that it does not sound totally mean, Louis lets out a light laugh, something sweet and caring. It seems to have worked, because Harry's shoulders are not tightening, and his fists are not tightening. He answers calmly, and Louis looks at him in silence.

"It’s the truth, I don’t play sports."

Louis stares at Harry for a moment, in silence. He does not know what to think about it. Harry does not seem to be lying, and he honestly has no reason to lie, so he accepts the idea, tries to take it further.

"If you don't play sports, what do you do then? What is your hobby?"

He really does not want to sound pushy, does not want to rush Harry in any way, so he tries to speak calmly, not to let his curiosity be heard in his voice. He thinks he is succeeding, but Harry's reaction says otherwise.

"Fuck off Tomlinson! Why the hell do you even care? Why are you asking me questions if you don't want to listen to the answers?!" he exclaims as he leaves the wardrobe, turning angrily instead to look Louis in the eyes.

His tone is cold and snarling, and Louis is surprised at the change. He has not faced such a Harry for at least two weeks, and he is not used to it, (he is not _anymore_ ). It is hard, harder than it should be, probably because Louis was hoping he would never see him talk to him like that again.

He watches Harry walk to his office in silence, remains silent as the young man leans against the cabinet and runs his hand through his hair. A curl detaches itself from the rest and falls on his forehead. Louis wants to push it back behind his ear; he refrains from crossing the room and doing so. Instead, he speaks calmly:

"I really thought we could be more than just strangers, Harry. Really, after the dinner at your parents, I thought we had buried the hatchet. I was wrong, apparently. As long as you decide to be a sassy kid, I would be wrong. Grow up a little, Harry, instead of attacking everyone who talks to you. It’s unfair to them, but also to you."

Sometimes Louis regrets what they had _before_ the party, _before_ the dinner. Before Harry laughs that way, look at him that way, say _his name_ that way. He would then have to face a Harry who was still angry and cold, and it was annoying indeed, but it was easier.

To his surprise, Harry sighs softly, lowers his head. It is strange not to see him struggle. Louis is confused.

"I am sorry."

It is a mumble, and the words are not clear. Louis is not even sure that is what Harry said, or if he imagined it all. Maybe it is the alcohol, and he is imagining things. He leans forward, as if a few inches could change his perception.

"Sorry?" he asks calmly.

Louis sees Harry clenching his fists; he notices the tension in his shoulders and expects Harry to send him off. Instead, he seems to be deflating: he sighs for a long time, then raises his head and looks Louis straight in the eye.

"I am sorry."

Harry has already apologized to Louis. Once. He had the same look, the same gleam in his eyes, but this time it is different because it _does not make sense_. As much as he appreciates these excuses, he does not understand them.

Louis sweeps away Harry's words with a wave of his hand, Harry frowns at the movement. This is not what he expects, he wants an explanation, a reason for such behavior; Louis needs to know what he did to receive such treatment.

"I just don't understand, Harry. What did I do to make you hate me so much? I don't remember doing anything. I need to know why suddenly you are being nice to me, then you yell at me and tell me to fuck off." Louis asks, and he really wants to know.

It is all well and good to fight for someone, to try and get closer to them, but Louis does not want to waste his time on some utterly desperate cause either. And if it is indeed a hopeless cause, he needs to know what the reason is to _maybe_ fix it.

And it begins again. Harry's brow creases again, and he seems to have all the misfortunes in the world on his shoulders. Louis almost feels like leaving the room like that, hearing no more, because he knows Harry is going to raise his voice again, and honestly if it is get insulted again, he would rather leave.

But no, Harry is not insulting him, and is not screaming. He speaks calmly, although resentment can be heard in his voice. It is strange. Louis is listening.

"It's not my fault, okay? I never wanted to be an asshole to you. It's just that— that—"

Harry is frantic, starts to wave his hands in front of him as he searches for his words. Louis stands in silence, worried that the young man will start to have a panic attack. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, stops moving, fixes his gaze in Louis's eyes, the fight can be read in his eyes, it is complicated. Louis is starting to get stressed too.

"That what, Harry? It's just that what?" he finally asks, because he cannot stand the image of Harry struggling like this anymore. It is almost painful.

Harry sighs for a long time, again, and yeah, it is painful. He seems so angry with himself. He lets his arms fall along his body; he seems annoyed. As he opens his mouth to speak, Louis is hanging from his lips, awaiting the explanation he so deserves.

"It's just that every time someone talks to me, it's to reach Eleanor. I can't take it anymore, I'm sick of it. I'm not some fucking item that people can use to talk to the great, gorgeous, and beautiful Eleanor Calder. I promised myself that I would not let people use me for that anymore, and then you come out of nowhere, right after you just broke up with her. You've never spoken to me before you know? I'm not even sure you knew about my existence. You really started coming to me after you broke up with her, and yeah, I thought you were going to use me to get her back."

After that, silence falls in the room. Louis is looking for what to say, some heartwarming words or an apology; he tries to meet Harry's gaze, to mentally tell him that no, he was not using him, because the words do not come, but Harry continues to stare at the ground in silence, playing anxiously with his hands. So, Louis takes it as a joke, because he does not know what else to do; alcohol runs through his veins and words flow from his mouth without his being able to hold them back.

"I don't need you to get her back, trust me, all I have to do is snap my fingers and she would already be on her knees for me."

He tries a laugh to lighten the mood, but it comes out broken and hoarse, and Louis blames himself. He screwed up, he asked for explanations without being able to do that. He asked a question but could not handle the answer. And Harry is sitting there against the desk, looking so sad and broken.

Finally, Harry raises his head, and fixes his eyes on Louis's. His pupils are slightly dilated, making the green of his eyes brighter; Louis guesses that Harry is only like that because of the alcohol. He would never open up to him so much without drinking. It is so deep, Louis has chills.

"This is silly, I know… Sorry." the young man answers, and his voice is low.

Louis does not want him to apologize for that, though; it is his feelings that are at stake, no one should ever apologize for something so out of control and uncertain. Louis knows what he is talking about. This sentence was enough to get him out of this alcohol and revelation haze covering his brain, he finally found the words, and the right ones this time:

"Yeah, you said it, that's stupid." Louis smirked slightly, something small; it is not mean but reassuring. Harry seems to understand this as he gives it back with a soft sigh. "But you have no reason to apologize for that, Harry. It's not something you can control, and it's normal that you felt like this after what happened—"

Two knocks resound on the door, cutting off Louis in his tracks. The young man immediately shuts his mouth, and they both jump slightly. After exchanging a confused look, they turn their gaze to the noise, and when the handle unsuccessfully moves, Harry walks through the room and unlocks the door. He opens it enough for Louis to recognize Liam, standing in the hallway. He spots Zayn standing behind his best friend and smiles in amusement as he does not see Maya anywhere. The young man found his way apparently without getting lost, and even managed to take the pirate away from the governor's daughter.

"Are you finished soon? We need Louis for a game," the young man says, and his voice is rough, probably from screaming too much.

Louis had forgotten the disgusting feel of his shirt sticking to his skin, but Liam's words immediately reminded him of it, and he grimaces. Harry turns his head towards him when Louis's name is mentioned. He seems to be watching Louis, judging him, and the latter is uneasy. He is afraid to say or do something wrong.

"Yeah I'm coming, wait two seconds lads. I need to sort something out with Curly first." Louis answers softly.

Harry begins to smile at the nickname; Louis is the only one who can see him, Harry hiding behind the door for the other two. He is proud of himself; he seems to have said the right thing.

Louis shifts his attention back to Liam, who nods with a slight "okay". Then he and Zayn disappear down the hall again, and Harry closes the door. He does not lock it, just walks back to the closet immediately.

They do not speak anymore, as Harry starts looking for a t-shirt again (Louis definitely does not understand what is taking him so long). The mood is not the same as it was before Liam's interruption, and Louis cannot risk revisiting the subject, although he thinks Harry needs it.

Finally, Harry turns and hands him a white t-shirt with blue sleeves. Louis raises an eyebrow at the t-shirt, then looks up at Harry.

"Don't you have a green one instead?" he asks instead to walk away in a speech about feelings, a smirk on his lips.

It seems to be working, because even though Harry sighs and rolls his eyes, Louis sees him suppress a smile. He walks back to the wardrobe, puts the white t-shirt away and pulls out a green one. It is quick this time, but Louis refrains from questioning himself.

"There you go, _Pied Piper_ ," Harry finally says, handing him a clean, green t-shirt, and Louis chuckled softly at the reference.

Then Louis grabs the edges of his shirt over his head, and Harry's eyes widen before quickly turning his head to the side, and it is _adorable_. As Harry continues to hold out the shirt with one hand, and covers his eyes with the other, Louis smirks amusedly, watching the young boy in front of him. He is so obsessed with his reaction that he does not have time to think about being _proud_ of the effect.

Then Louis remembers something:

"What are you disguised as, by the way?" Louis asks, pulling the shirt over his head and sliding it over his chest. It is a bit big, but he is enjoying the feel of the dry cotton on his skin, happy to finally be rid of the disgusting texture of his other t-shirt.

When he looks up at Harry, Harry has already opened his eyes. He watches Louis for a second, from head to toe, and Louis cannot identify the glint in his gaze. Then Harry looks down at his own costume, and when he returns his attention to Louis, a playful smile dawns on his lips. Louis wants to kiss him _so_ badly.

"It's not funny if I tell you." Harry responds in a playful voice, and _waw_.

It takes a moment for Louis to find his words, because Harry is so close, his curls within reach of hands, his smile within reach of lips, and he has to take it upon himself not to jump on the boy and kiss every little part of his face. The _alcohol_ , probably.

"How do I know if you don't tell me? Am I supposed to ask Niall to tell me?" he finally responds in an amused tone, then an idea occurs to him, and he sits up, placing a hand on Harry's arm as if to take him in on his confidence. "Wait, don't tell me that you, like, organized a whole treasure hunt with lots of puzzles to guess what’s your costume is... You're not that kind of person, right?"

Harry bursts out laughing, and _damn_ it is beautiful. His eyes are narrowed, his dimples are adorable, and he throws his head slightly back, one hand on his stomach. That is fucking adorable, and Louis is going to have a heart attack.

When Harry's laughter subsides, _he wipes away a tear of laughter_ before speaking, and Louis is sure his heart _is falling_ _so fast_.

"Nah it's okay, I think seeing Niall will be enough for you to understand my disguise."

Louis raises an eyebrow at that, but does not ask any more questions, Zayn and Liam are still waiting for him, and although he enjoys spending time with Harry, especially when he is not cold and sassy, he would also like to spend some time with his friends.

"Thanks for the t-shirt Curly, although that's normal since you messed up the other one. (Harry rolls his eyes adorably) "I'm going to join Liam and Malik now, they must probably be bored without me."

Louis smiles at Harry lightly, then turns around, heading for the door. As Louis prepares to pass the framing, Harry's voice stops him.

"Oh uh Louis?"

It is like the last time: Louis is about to leave, but Harry's clear voice calls him, and he dead stops in his movements. Except this time Harry has already apologized, and Louis has already forgiven him.

"Hm?" Louis just says, as he half-turns to Harry, his hand already on the doorway.

Harry is still standing in the middle of the room, and he is replaying with his fingers in that nervous, anxious way he only seems to have in Louis' presence. The boy glances at his desk, then at Louis, and the latter sees him take a deep breath, a smile dawning on his lips.

"Writing."

Again, that low and deep voice that gives him chills. Louis wonders if Harry really spoke, or if it was all a result of his thoughts, like every time the boy speaks to him.

"What?" he asks, to be sure, and then Harry's gaze is fixed on him, and he almost forgets how to breathe.

"Writing. That’s my hobby." he pauses for a smile. "This is what I do, I write." he finishes, and he looks so proud that he said it. His eyes are shining, and although his smile is not that big, you can see his pretty dimples.

Louis does not answer. He is just looking at Harry, smiling, for real. Louis is touched. And happy too. Touched that Harry trusted him to tell him that, happy he gave him a part of him. It is not much, of course, but it is good enough. Louis can be happy with that, if that means they are on good terms now. Damn, that is amazing.

Yeah, Louis is happy. _For sure._

He leaves Harry's room with the best of smiles, and thousands of butterflies flying in his stomach, a feeling he now loves so much, and that thrills him.

As Louis goes down to the living room to join Zayn and Liam, still in his bubble, he sees Niall a little further away, laughing with his friends. The young man has several colorful flowers tied in his blond hair, and he is wearing a ruffled purple dress, a frying pan in his hand. Louis laughed softly as he understood what Harry meant.

He gently shakes his head as he leaves for the living room, leaving Niall and his friends behind. _Nah but really,_ he thinks with amusement, _there’s only Harry and Niall to make matching Rapunzel and Flynn Rider costumes._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this!  
> follow the twitter acc @undermyskinLSFF to keep updated ;)  
> follow my twitter acc @ALEXSTYLESL0VER if u want :)  
> hope you enjoyed! <3


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